The White Rose
by NazgulQueen13
Summary: New Chapters! Princess Alana’s wish to leave her invisible life behind is granted as her father’s mistake sends her on a mysterious adventure. But Alana struggles to understand that within every beast lies beauty, and every love is worth fighting for.
1. Alana's Wish Granted

The White Rose

_Chapter One_

Alana sighed. The servant gave her a sympathetic smile as he poured more water into her glass. She smiled back.

"Cheers," she said softly to him. He chuckled, but quickly stopped, glancing at the queen. She was paying no attention.

"Darling, if you do not get married, what will happen to the kingdom? I have no son!" the queen was saying.

The queen and Alana's sister, Davina, were fighting as usual. And just as usual, Alana was stuck contenting herself with watching the water in her glass swirl, completely ignored.

"Mother, my life is horrible enough as it is!" Davina cried; she was remarkably dramatic. "You don't need to make it worse!"

"Oh, please. How is your life horrible?"

"It just is," Davina said, her lower lip beginning to pout.

"Your life is fine, Davina. It's you who makes yourself think it's so horrible."

"Mother, don't start."

"Davina, how can I convince you to marry?" the queen asked in exasperation.

"You can stop trying to convince me!"

They both sighed, long and exaggerated.

"I just don't see why you didn't like Prince Eric."

As this brought on a fresh wave of arguments, Alana decided enough was enough. She picked up her plate of chocolate cake and left the room unnoticed. She briskly walked to her father's study and collapsed into his chair.

Her father had died the year before. He had been the only other sane person in Alana's family, and now she was left alone to cope with her mother and sister's ongoing battle. Unfortunately, she was both sane and invisible. Her mother paid no attention to her, and when her sister took notice of her, it was to tell her to wear different clothes or to say her hair looked atrocious. She straightened herself in the chair and ate her cake, glancing through the maps that were still strewn across his desk. Nothing had changed in this room; her mother had ordered it not to be touched.

Her mother was often said to be somewhat intimidating, but Alana always thought that it was only because she had become the sole ruler of the kingdom, and had to be intimidating. Mind you, the kingdom of Estralia wasn't that big to begin with, but ruling any kingdom had to be challenging. Alana didn't exactly blame her mother for ignoring her - she was the younger princess after all - but she couldn't help feeling resentful. It was true, she had no brother, and therefore if the rule were to stay within the family, Davina would have to marry, and marry soon, because there was only a limited time that a widow could rule in place of her husband. Estralia was still very much traditional, believing that a man should rule the kingdom. But Davina was extremely stubborn, and extremely melodramatic. She could turn the tiniest anthill into a mountain.

Alana finished her cake, and decided to take her plate to the kitchen.

"Good evening, your highness," the servants said as she entered. She put her plate down near a sink.

"Why didn't you stay in the dining hall, Alana?" her friend, Zora, said.

"Why would I?" Alana retorted, and sunk onto a stool. Zora picked up the plate and began to wash it.

"I suppose you're right. Every night then, eh?"

"Every single night. I'm telling you, my patience is wearing thin."

"Alana, you never had any patience to begin with."

Alana sighed. "I suppose you're right," she said with a halfhearted laugh. "It's just that with my father gone, there's no one to come between those two. I'll either go plum crazy or run away."

Zora clicked her tongue. "Oh, Alana. One day you'll meet a prince-"

"Who won't even see me," Alana interrupted.

"Let me finish!" Zora scolded. "One day you will meet a prince, and he'll fall madly in love with you and you can be rid of your insane family forever."

"I think I'd rather marry a servant," Alana said. "The princes are always so haughty."

Zora sighed. "You know what I meant."

"Yes, I do, and I thank you for it. But for now I'll just have to wait it out, I suppose."

Zora looked sympathetically at the twenty-year-old princess. She had always been the smarter one, even if she wouldn't admit it. She was beautiful as well, but the fact that she was the second daughter caused her to be unseen by her family. Zora sighed.

"Someday," Alana said.

"Someday what?" Zora asked.

"Someday my life will change. And I don't even care if it's for better or for worse. I just need something to change."

"Well, it won't change if you sit in this kitchen bothering me all the time," Zora said with an encouraging chuckle.

Alana laughed. "I guess I'd better be going. There's still that ball next week."

"Another prince?"

"Two, if I'm not mistaken," Alana grumbled.

"Two? Davina will go mad!"

"I know," Alana said miserably. "Just think of all those fun dinners I'll have then!"

Zora just smiled. "Good night, Alana."

"Good night."

* * *

Alana sat out on her balcony, her glimmering blonde hair blowing in the warm breeze. She loved her balcony. It faced the sea, and she watched the tide wash up on the beach. The full moon glinted eerily off the waves, and Alana felt as if she were in a trance.

She thought of the ball next week. She considered not going, but then someone would ask her mother where she was, and then the queen would be forced to think of her younger daughter, and Alana didn't wish to bring that upon herself.

"Oh, Father," she whispered, staring up the shining stars. "I need to get out of here."

The only answer she got was the crashing of the waves. She sighed, and curled up on her chair. Maybe Zora was right. All she needed was someone to take her away from this place. Take her away and never come back.

_Although I would miss this balcony,_ she thought. The last thing she saw before she fell asleep was a shooting star. Foggy with sleep, she smiled like a little child.

"I wish I could get away from this place," she whispered, and then fell fast asleep.

* * *

The week passed quickly, and the night of the ball arrived. Alana was definitely not looking forward to it; nothing ever happened at these affairs. All she did was go, dance a few times, and then leave. And then wake up to aching feet the next day. What was the point?

She dressed in a simple, pale blue satin gown. She swept her hair up, and placed her feet into some sparkly shoes. She retrieved the diamond necklace her father had given her for her 16th birthday, and put it on. She chose some earrings to match, and decided she was as ready as she would ever be. She looked at herself in the mirror for a moment or two; her bronzed skin made her golden hair seem lighter than it truly was, but she fancied how her hair glittered in the light. She had always loved her emerald green eyes; they were the same as her father's. So were her strong jaw, high cheekbones, and straight, jutting collarbone. Her nose, however, was her mother's, no doubt about it: the straightest nose one could possibly have. She and her sister shared the same rose red lips and the slight dusting of freckles on their cheeks. Nonetheless, even with all these wonderful similarities, she was still invisible.

"Oh well, their loss," Alana said to herself with a smile. She left her room and walked slowly to the ballroom. Her mother and sister had already gone in; as usual, Alana was late. She descended the stairs, groaning silently to herself as she looked around at the simpering nobles in their extravagant dresses. What she assumed were the two princes were standing next to the queen's throne, chatting and looking arrogant. Alana was asked to dance and she was led to the dance floor; the sea of nobles whirled around like a bright rainbow of colors as she waltzed endlessly. Dizzy after many dances, she pardoned herself and went for a drink. She found seclusion by hiding behind a rather large plant, and amused herself by watching a poor girl who hadn't realized her dress had split in the back.

The night seemed to go on eternally. Near midnight, Alana stole away to the kitchens to find some sanity.

"Alana, you look beautiful," Zora said when she saw Alana come in.

"Beautiful and bored to death," Alana answered.

"Not having fun?"

"Never having fun," Alana replied, her voice cross and irritable.

"Oh, Alana," Zora said, but changed the subject. "Do you think your sister liked any of the princes?"

"I doubt it, but I couldn't really tell. She's danced with them both the whole time. They looked like a couple of scumbags if you ask me," she said, not caring for the subject.

"They're supposed to be, they're royalty," Zora said, chortling.

Alana raised an eyebrow.

"You're different," Zora contested.

Alana sighed as Zora continued to wash an incessant flow of dishes.

"I think I'll go to bed," she said, yawning.

"Well, then, good night."

Alana left and went up to her room, plopping onto her big, soft bed. She could hear the music playing softly, and the murmur of people talking and laughing. She lay on her back, staring up at her ornate ceiling. She suddenly felt a sense of foreboding, but she couldn't think why. _Maybe I'm a seer_, she thought with laugh. But the feeling nagged at her as she let down her hair and changed into her nightgown.

Something was going to change soon. She could feel it.

* * *

Alana woke the next day to hear arguing coming from the hall. The feeling from the night before returned like a slap in the face. Her stomach knotted as she listened intently.

"My daughter is not going anywhere! I don't care who you say you are, you cannot take her!" It was her mother's voice, high and shrill.

Alana staggered out of bed and pressed an ear against her door. Could they be talking about her?

"Take no offense, your majesty, but you barely realize the girl is here. Besides, your husband wrote the promise in ink; it's a contract!" Now it was a man's voice.

"How dare you! Don't you think it's hard enough not having my husband around without people like you to remind us?"

"Your majesty, I have to. If I don't, he'll take one of my daughters!"

"And that is my problem how?"

"The king promised! I have it right here!" There was the sound of a paper.

Alana's breath was coming fast and hard, and her nerves went into high gear. Her mother was also breathing heavily, obviously reading the paper.

"That is his signature," she said, sounding astonished.

"I am sorry, your majesty. But I had to, please understand. From a parent's point of view." The man sounded desperate. "He also told me at the time to give this to you." Another paper.

Her mother was silent again. Alana tried to lean closer, biting her lip so hard she suddenly tasted blood.

"Well, that settles it, then," the queen said in a restrained voice.

"I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault. This could have happened to anyone." Her voice sounded hollow and resigned.

"Shall I tell her, then?"

"No," her mother said. "No, I had better do it."

Alana sprung back from the door and into her bed. She grabbed a book and hastily opened it, pretending to read. Her door opened, and her mother came in, looking worried.

"Hello, dear," her mother said. Alana forgot to be surprised that her mother was addressing her; all she wanted to know was what was going on. She stayed silent.

Her mother sat down on the edge of the bed, smoothing the paper in her hand. "I have to speak with you."

"Alright," Alana said, her voice shaking.

"Darling, when your father was alive, he…well, he didn't _always_ make the best choices," her mother began, avoiding Alana's eyes, and instead looking at the paper. "One time, not so long ago, he was in the countryside and became lost. It began to rain heavily, and it was very cold, and… well, you know you're father always had… delicate health. He stumbled across what he thought was an old, abandoned castle. He was so lost, and had nowhere to stay, so he stayed in this castle. Are you following?"

Alana nodded, her heart caught somewhere in her throat.

"Well, this castle, which he thought to be empty, turned out to have… well, an unusual inhabitant. Our land is filled with fantastical creatures, of course. Understand, dear, that your father was scared. When this… inhabitant confronted him, your father gave him the name of a farmer he once knew instead of his own. The… person told your father he would let him leave if he gave him one of his daughters as payment. Your father agreed."

Alana's mouth had fallen open. She held a hand to her head, trying to calm the blood that pounded her temples.

"Of course, when he got home, he thought that the person would take one of the farmer's daughters instead of one of his own, but the farmer found out because the person began to write to him, reminding him of the payment. The farmer sought out your father and demanded he send one of his own daughters." She paused, holding a handkerchief to her eye. "Your father was a good man," she continued, her voice shaking horribly now. "He realized this was the only fair and honorable way to handle the situation. So…"

"…he agreed," Alana finished. It was all perfectly clear to her now.

"Exactly."

"And you can't send Davina because she is the crowned princess."

Her mother paused. "Yes."

"So I have to go," Alana said, her voice even but anxious. The room suddenly seemed very small and constrictive.

"Yes," her mother said again, looking at her fearfully.

Alana took a deep breath, her mind working double time. "What exactly is this… person?"

"I don't quite know, your father never specified," her mother replied, laying the paper down for Alana to see. Alana, however, didn't look at it.

"Well, then I suppose I have to go, don't I?" Alana said, her nerves calm but her mind overwhelmed.

"Oh, darling, if I could stop it I would, but I don't know how."

Alana didn't look at her. _Well, I did wish to get away from this place_, she thought ironically.

"When must I leave?" she asked instead.

"Tomorrow."

"How far away is it?"

"About 100 leagues." The queen paused. "The farmer will show you the way."

Alana began to tap her nails on the book. Her lips were pursed, and she nodded continually. She was thinking quickly; it was either going to be very bad, as in she was going to her death, or it was going to be not so bad, as in she might actually get along with this…person. She sincerely hoped for the latter.

* * *

Author's Notes: Woo! I have finally uploaded the revisions for this story! I'm so proud of myself!

Anyway, for readers who have read it before, it has changed a bit; not the story, per se, but there's a lot more explanation and new stuff. So review again, if you like.

To new readers, you're lucky! You get to read the revised version! The first version really wasn't that bad, but I just had such a hankering to perfect it, that I couldn't help myself. So enjoy and review!

This is my fastest paced story, so don't fret that chapters aren't very long. Otherwise it would be boring, and that's the way I wanted to write it.

Love,

Emma the NazgulQueen


	2. Welcome

_Chapter 2_

The day that followed her mother's announcement was a blur to Alana. All she vaguely remembered was packing her life up into a bag, saying good-bye to Zora, and her mother seeming very nervous. Before she knew it, she had left the palace, was sitting on a horse, and the farmer was trying to make light conversation. She didn't respond, so he gave up after a few minutes, and trotted a little ways ahead of her.

Alana sat still on her horse, nervously twisting the ring on her finger. Her father had given it to her for her tenth birthday. It was a silver leaf with a shining pearl in the middle. She tried to think of anything but the long, winding road that seemed to stretch forever in front of her. She tried not to think of what she would find at the end of it. But she did.

Would it be a castle? A dark, twisted castle like those she heard in the stories as a child? And what was in the castle? What could this mysterious inhabitant possibly be? And what did he want with her?

The fact that her life had just changed drastically was beginning to dawn on her as the woods grew darker and darker. But her anxiety was ebbing away… she had so desperately wanted to get away from her home, it was almost as if she had willed this to happen. As her head cleared, she found she wasn't angry, or even that frightened. She actually felt almost excited.

They rode for what seemed like hours and hours and hours on end. Alana was just about to ask when it would end when she gasped.

A great, enormous castle appeared before them, rising up through the trees. It was at least twice the size of the one she had left, and it was adorned by statues of menacing gargoyles and sinister eagles. Its black marble façade glinted ominously, and the full moon silhouetted its immense towers. They soon reached a grand wire gate that rose so tall Alana couldn't even see the top.

"I am sorry, your highness, I must leave you here," the farmer said, his voice shaking terribly with fear.

"Wait, no-" Alana protested, but he galloped off. She took a moment to collect her thoughts, and then got off her horse, shaking, and stood still at the gate. She placed a hand on it, willing herself to pull it open. Her horse suddenly neighed in fear, and she turned to quiet it.

"Hello?" a voice came. Alana yelped and turned back around. She thought she was hallucinating; a small person flew from the door of the castle, fluttering huge gold wings. The person was dressed in shining gold, and Alana's mouth fell open.

"Ah, hello," the person said, hovering on the other side of the gate. "Do come in." It was a fairy. The gate opened silently and Alana numbly walked in. They walked across the long walkway to the castle.

"My name is Joy," the fairy said, fluttering next to Alana's shoulder. Alana didn't respond; she was too busy staring, with mouth agape, at Joy. Her hair was a curly, glittering gold, she was slim, only as tall as Alana's hip, and wore a glimmering golden dress. Joy laughed.

"Have you never seen a fairy before?" she asked, her voice cheerful but wise.

Alana blushed. "I am sorry," she said finding her voice. "I did not mean to stare."

"It is alright. What is your name, dear?"

"Alana."

"A fine name. Ah, here we are." They had finally arrived at the entrance; two vast wooden doors, embellished by threatening black spikes, greeted them. The stone trim around the doors was engraved with words in a language Alana had never seen before. Joy opened the doors without touching a thing, and once inside, Alana saw her blow something from her hand. One by one, all the candles began burning. Again, Alana's mouth fell open. She stood in the largest hall she had ever seen. Beams of gleaming wood crisscrossed the ceiling, allowing a glowing, pewter chandelier to hang high above their heads. Rich, elaborate tapestries hung on the walls, ornate fireplaces burned brightly to the left and right, and the grand, luxuriously carpeted staircase that rose before them was intricately carved with some sort of symbols. Yet even with the candles and fires blazing, the castle still seemed dark.

"It is something, is it not?" Joy said.

Alana nodded dumbly.

"Well, I'll give you a short tour, I'm sure you are eager to sleep."

Joy led Alana up the stairs and to the right, and again turned the lights on. They walked down the hall, which was filled with paintings and statues. The walked all the way to the end, where a vast window showed Alana that it had begun to rain.

"Here is your room, miss," Joy said, indicating the room to the left of the window. Alana opened the door and for the third time, her jaw dropped. The room was enormous, and immediately stunning. A plush blue carpet felt soft on Alana's feet, and a grand window that led to a balcony was being pounded with rain. The canopy bed was high and soft, with lush satin sheets and sparkling, translucent curtains, and the large wardrobe was made of a glistening maple wood. Alana gasped in surprise when she noticed that her things had already been brought up.

"When you wake, someone will show you to the kitchen," Joy said. "Good night, miss."

"Good night," Alana said, already lying on the bed.

"Oh, and miss?" Joy said; she sounded like she was suppressing a great deal of… well, joy.

"Yes?"

"Thank you for coming."

Alana sat back up to ask her what she meant, but she was gone.

* * *

The next morning, Alana woke late to find the sun shining. She was lying on her stomach, but she held her head up and glanced around. _It wasn't a dream…_ She jumped up and ran to the window, opening it to let in the fresh, dewy morning air. What she saw took her breath away.

Walking out onto the balcony, Alana could see the entire land behind the castle. It stretched as far as the eye could see. And climbing up the sides of the castle and down below in the gardens were roses, beautiful white roses, still wet from last night's rain.

_It isn't rose season_, Alana thought as she smelled their fragrance. The view was breathtaking. Out in the distance she could see majestic mountains rising up over the horizon, and a surging, serene river. She had a strange feeling that it felt like home already, but she quickly shook it away. _You haven't met the master of the house yet, remember?_

She left her room, still in her nightdress, but remembered she didn't know where to go. Her stomach grumbled in hunger, and she sighed.

"Lost, miss?"

Alana whirled around to see a fairy, but it wasn't Joy. This one had a high pitched voice and was dressed completely in purple, including her wings. Her hair was black, but curly like Joy's.

"Who are you?" Alana asked.

"Faith," the fairy answered with beaming smile. "I'll lead you to the kitchen, I'm sure you are hungry."

Faith led Alana down two flights of stairs, down a hallway, and then down another flight of stairs.

"You missed breakfast, but I'm sure the cook will whip you up something," Faith said, leading an out of breath Alana into the kitchen.

"Thank you," Alana said, and Faith fluttered away.

"Good morning!" a booming voice came from behind the stove.

"Good morning," Alana said walking around to see a large, brawny man at the stove. "What's your name?"

"Me? Oh, just call me Cook. How do you like your eggs?"

As Alana ate, she talked with Cook. After a while, she timidly asked when she would meet the master.

"Ah, well, he…doesn't like to be hurried," Cook said. Alana nodded, knowing not to pry anymore. She excused herself and slowly went back up the way she thought she had gone down. After her third set of stairs however, she didn't see her room.

"Oh, no," she said. She stood alone in an even grander hallway than the one her room was in. Desperately, she called, "Joy? Faith?" but she received no answer.

The hallways and stairs that branched out from the hall looked like an endless maze of carpet. Nervously, she walked down the corridor, looking for a window that might tell her where she was. A great pair of doors met her at the end of the hall. She didn't step up to them; she had a feeling that she wasn't allowed behind those doors. She avoided them, and backed away, deciding to try the steps that met her a few feet over. They, however, led her to a dark, dusty room filled with nothing but furniture. She impatiently stamped her foot and went back down the steps to stand in front of the doors again. Ignoring the warnings in her head, she knocked, but when there was no immediate answer, she grunted in frustration and turned away.

"What is it?" a gruff voice suddenly came from within the doors.

Alana turned sharply back to the doors, and, her frustration forgotten, became a bit afraid.

"Um, I'm sorry, it's just…I'm completely lost," she stammered, speaking a bit louder than usual into the wooden doors.

She heard a deep, heavy sigh. "Come in, then," the voice said.

With a deep breath, she opened the door apprehensively, and slid into the room.

"What is your name?" the deep voice asked, coming from a chair that faced the massive fireplace.

"Alana… sir," she said, expectantly.

"I wasn't expecting you."

To her anxious ears, the voice sounded angry. "I apologize," she said, with a bit more remorse than she had intended.

The voice sighed again, and there was a long pause. "Let me explain something to you, Alana," it began.

She stood stock-still, with her back still to the door. Against her will, she nervously began to gnaw at her thumbnail.

"Your father had no right to stay in this castle, uninvited."

"I understand that, sir," she said, her nerves forgotten for the moment as she thought of her family.

There was a surprised silence.

"You do?" the voice asked.

"Well, yes," she said… what had he expected, some air-headed bimbo who was going to _argue_ with him? She knew her father had trespassed this property. Alana nearly laughed at the thought of arguing at a time like this.

"I've had many _visitors_," he continued, sounding sarcastic, "over the years. Many of whom either wanted me dead or just to stare at me."

"Why would they want you dead?" Alana asked interestedly, now completely forgetting that she should probably be scared. His voice wasn't that frightening, and by now he had sparked her curiosity.

There was another silence.

"Do you know what you have gotten yourself into, exactly?" the voice asked.

"Well, not really, but I was thinking on the way here that perhaps I willed it, you know, because I was so ready to get out of that stupid palace, and it's really my father's fault, he never really had any sense of direction, and my mother didn't even think twice about sending me because of course we couldn't send precious Davina," Alana rambled angrily, nearly forgetting that the person was probably listening to every word.

The voice made a noise, but whether it was a laugh or a growl, Alana wasn't sure. Either way, she shut her mouth.

"Well, then, let me enlighten you," he said. "There is a curse on this castle. There is a curse on me," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. Then there was the sound of movement, and a huge shadow was flickered onto the wall. The shadow moved, and a figure emerged from the chair. There, standing in front of her, was a nearly seven foot tall beast. Her hand went up to cover her mouth, but her eyes took him in. He was covered in thick, brown fur, and stood on great hind legs. His arms ended in claws, fangs protruded from his mouth, and there were short, thick horns on his head. Yet, for some reason, Alana didn't fear him, and felt calm once again.

"Well," she said, lowering her hand, her fear completely gone. "The castle is lovely."

He wore a puzzled expression.

"Excuse me?"

"For a cursed castle, it's quite nice," she said, her voice light and cheerful.

There was an odd silence. Something hit her; perhaps he really had been expecting the air-headed bimbo.

"I'm a bit of a strange girl, sir," she explained.

He nodded, still looking quite bewildered. He shook his head, and a menacing glint came back into his eye.

"You may go," he said gruffly, turning back around.

She turned as well, but then halted. "But…I don't know where to go," she said.

"Go down the hall, down the stairs, and to the right."

"Oh. Thank you."

"Just never come to this floor again. And especially," his voice became very harsh here, "never go through that door." He pointed to a door in the corner of the room.

"Yes, sir." She opened the door and walked out. She placed a hand over her chest in an attempt to slow down her furiously beating heart. That hadn't been nearly as bad as she had imagined; in fact, she was quite relieved. She understood why others feared him, but she couldn't understand why she, of all people, did not. She walked back into her room with a smile on her face.

This would prove to very interesting.


	3. A Tour

_Chapter 3_

Alana sat on her balcony later that day, not knowing quite what else to do. She definitely did not want to go wandering, since she knew she would get lost. And so she sat there, thinking of her situation. And for some reason, she was quite happy with it.

She hadn't seemed to realize just how horrible living in the palace with her mother and sister had been until she was gone. Here, they actually noticed her, said hello to her, asked her about herself. Sure, it wasn't quite the same thing as being 'loved', per say, but she thought she would be quite willing to live here. Even the master hadn't seemed quite as bad as she would have thought. She could see why other people would fear him, and this place, but given her life before, she felt as though her living situation was quite improved.

She did wonder why the castle was cursed…but she knew enough not to ask. People don't like those who pry, her grandmother had always said. Although her grandmother _had_ been a tad batty. Alana laughed at the memory.

"Do you need anything miss?"

Alana gave a yelp and turned around to find yet another fairy. This one was completely in glittering, sparkling green.

"Miss?"

"Who are you?" Alana asked.

"Oh, Hope, miss. I am sorry if I have frightened you."

"That's alright."

"I was wondering if you would like a tour," Hope said with a smile. "Maybe you will not get lost."

"Of course, that would be wonderful!" Alana said, getting out of her chair.

Hope gasped. "My dear! What _are_ you wearing?"

Alana had realized this morning that she had only brought with her her most basic dresses.

"Well, this is all I had," she said. Hope clicked her tongue reproachfully.

"Did you not look in the wardrobe, miss?" she said, fluttering to the large, beautiful wooden wardrobe.

"No, I didn't think anything was in there," Alana said truthfully.

Hope sighed. "Well, we would like you to be at least a little better dressed," she said, obviously as kindly as she thought possible. She opened the doors with a flourish, and Alana gasped.

There gorgeous dresses in every color and fashion. They seemed to be sorted by season, as the autumn ones, (as it was autumn), were in the front. There were blues and purples and greens and even coppers.

"Here, I think this one will do today," Hope said, pulling out a deep green one. It had long, tight sleeves and a wide, scooped neck. The skirt of it was small, but Alana saw intricate embroidery along the bottom.

"Now, put it on, and I will come back to do your hair," Hope said, and fluttered out of the room.

Alana put the dress on carefully and stood in front of the full-length mirror that stood on the wall opposite the balcony. The dress fit perfectly; Alana was wondering how it was possible when Hope fluttered back in, and she was reminded of the magic.

"There, now, does not that look lovely?" Hope asked, more to herself than to Alana. "Now, sit down, and I will put your hair up."

Alana sat down at the vanity next to her bed. Again, she heard Hope click her tongue as she picked up the brush and began to attempt to smooth out Alana's hair. It had gotten rough during the journey, and Alana had not bothered to brush it since she came. She looked at herself in the mirror…is that how she had met the master of the castle? She groaned inwardly. She had looked a fright! No wonder he had looked at her so oddly; she would have looked at herself oddly, too.

"There we are now," she heard Hope say, and pulled herself out of her reverie. Hope had pulled her hair into a kind of twist, leaving some of her golden blonde hair down to frame her face.

"Now just a little of this," Hope murmured, swinging Alana's chair around and dabbing some rouge to her face and lips.

"There now, do you not look so much lovelier?" Hope asked, and Alana swung her chair back to face the mirror. Her eyes widened a bit, but she smiled at herself; there was no Davina to tell her that she looked horrible. And she didn't look horrible; quite the contrary.

"So, now you are suitable to go on a tour," Hope said. "Come now, follow me." She flew out of the room, and Alana hurried to stay with her.

"These rooms are never used," Hope began, waving her arms at the doors that lined the hall. "So there is no point in going in them." They reached the grand staircase that Alana had climbed up last night. The hall looked much better in the sunlight, but the castle still had a dark feel. They did not walk down the stairs, however, but continued down another hallway, which was open so that Alana could continue to stare down at the great hall.

"Again, useless rooms," Hope said. "Ah, here we go." She opened a door on her right, and beckoned to Alana. Instead of a room, however, Alana faced a narrow, spiraling set of stairs. Hope had already begun to flutter up, so Alana took a deep breath and followed her at a quick pace. The steps went on forever, it seemed, but finally Hope said, "Here we are."

They had come to a small, outdoor room that was half-covered in a glass, domed roof. Standing in front of the ledge was a telescope, and on the wall was a very old looking map of a constellation.

"Does he like astronomy?" Alana asked, putting her eye to the telescope.

"Who, miss?" Hope asked, as if hoping she had misconstrued Alana's words.

"The master of the castle," Alana answered, still with her eye to the telescope.

"Oh, well…he used to," Hope said sadly, with a finality that made Alana know not to ask anymore.

"Alright then, down we go," Hope said, brightening her voice again. Alana sighed, and followed her down the steps, but at a much slower pace this time. By the time she got down, Hope had her arms crossed.

"Sorry," Alana said, out of breath. Hope shrugged and continued on. She stopped again a lavish door.

"Now, mind you, this is the back entrance, so it will not be quite as glamorous," Hope told her. Alana was going to ask her what she meant when Hope opened the door.

It was the ballroom. An enormous, magnificent ballroom. It was gold and crimson, with a shining white marble floor. They were in the balcony, looking down at the floor. At the other end of the room was a staircase almost as big as the one in the great hall. It had golden railings and crimson steps. Hope was watching Alana with a smile on her face.

"This is wonderful," Alana said.

"Yes, well, you need to see it when it is prepared for a ball. Then, it is truly wonderful," Hope said with a hint of sadness. Alana gazed at her for a moment, but Hope shook her head as if to get rid of something, and sent a sparkly dust showering onto the floor.

"Well, then, on we go."

They continued to walk down the hall, Hope pointing out a few rooms here and there, and sometimes telling her which ones were just closets and which were rooms. They finally reached the end of the hall, where two extravagant doors met them.

"Now this," Hope said, "I think you will like."

She opened the doors, and Alana's mouth dropped open. It was a library, but not just any library. It was two stories high, and the first half was covered in the normal roof, but the second half was enclosed in glass, and beyond it were the remarkable gardens. There were books as far as the eye could see, with steps and ladders just so one could reach them. There was a fireplace and two chairs in the first half, but Alana continued to stare up the books. She heard someone clear their throat, but didn't bother to look, her neck craned up to stare.

"I am sorry, sir, I did not know you would be here," she heard Hope say, but it didn't sink in.

"It is alright, Hope," the same deep, rough voice from yesterday came. Alana knew she should probably look down, but couldn't stop staring at the shelves upon shelves of books. "Leave us."

A book caught Alana's eye, and she hurried to it. It was a book her grandfather used to read to her when she was young. She took it carefully from the shelf.

"Find something you like?" she heard the voice behind her.

"My grandfather used to read this book to me," she said, slightly nervous at being alone with him again. She turned around and showed it to him. She saw a hint of a smile pass through his eyes, the only human part of him. They were a vivid green, a soothing chartreuse. They looked into each other's eyes for a moment. She felt drawn to his eyes, but his voice broke through.

"A fine book to read when one is young," he said. She nodded, a little disappointed for some reason. His cloak swept as he walked back to the chair. She placed the book back on its shelf, not knowing whether she was supposed to stay or go. She thought that maybe she was to stay, so she wandered around, looking at the myriad of books. She climbed some steps to another level, and found a book that seemed more worn than the others. She pulled it out; it was titled _The Good King_.

"Oh," she said softly. She had always wanted to read this book. She eagerly opened it. Thinking she wasn't supposed to go and sit in the chair opposite him, she sat down on the steps and began to read.

After a few minutes, she heard, "Why are you sitting there?"

He was standing at the bottom of the steps, looking up at her, his expression unreadable.

"Well, I…" she didn't know what to say.

"Come and read by the fire, it is cold up there," he said, but it was not so much an invitation as it was an order.

She got up and went down the steps, then trotted alongside him to the chair. One of his strides equaled about three of hers, so she hurried to keep up. Once there, he sat down and began to read; she curled up in the chair and also began to read. She found it hard to concentrate, however. Her eyes kept flickering up to him, watching him read.

"Do you have a question, Alana?" he said, still looking at his book.

"Sorry," she said. "I was just wondering…" she racked her brain for a legitimate question. "What I am supposed to call you? Should I call you sir, or master, or…?"

He seemed to think for a moment.

"The servants call me Thomas," he said. "I suppose you may call me that."

She nodded. "Thomas it is, then."


	4. The Mistake

_Chapter 4_

Alana spent the next few days either in the library or in the castle's many art galleries. She hadn't seen much of Thomas, but she continued to wear the elegant dresses in case she did. He seemed to want to keep to himself, which gave her the freedom to wander about the castle. He did, however, have a knack for showing up whenever she got lost, for which she was very grateful, because it happened more than a few times. Something inside her felt a tad odd at calling him by such a human name as Thomas, and sometimes she subconsciously called him 'the beast' instead. But he seemed less and less of a beast the more she grew accustomed to his fine clothing, penchant for literature, and his all-too-human eyes.

One gorgeous autumn day, Alana dressed after breakfast and wandered out onto her balcony. She breathed in the now-familiar smell of the white roses climbing the walls, and gazed out onto the gardens. An idea suddenly struck her; why not take a walk outside? Grabbing her cloak, she headed downstairs. The only way she knew how to get directly to the gardens was through the library, so she followed the familiar trail to the library.

Once in the library, she resisted the urge to look at the books and stepped into the glass side. Huge glass doors stood at either end, and Alana went to the right. She was about to open the door when a voice said,

"Where are you going?"

She yelped in surprise, and turned to her right to see Thomas sitting by the fire.

"I was going to take a walk in the garden. Is that alright?" she asked nervously; maybe she was breaking some sort of rule.

"Yes," he said gruffly, returning to his book. "But Alana?" he said warningly.

"Yes?" she said, her hand stopping an inch above the door handle.

"Do _not_ go into the forest," he said, his voice harsh and fearsome.

"Yes, sir." She nodded, and then opened the door.

Once outside, she took a deep breath. It felt wonderful to be outside; the sky was a clear blue, the sun was high, and the air felt crisp. She pulled on her cloak and set off through the multitude of gardens. There were flowers of every color and kind. Alana didn't recognize most of them; she had never been allowed in the gardens at home. She wandered in and out of the maze of hedges that separated the different flower beds. There were arches with ivy climbing over them, and marble fountains that weren't running. It all felt rather romantic, somehow.

Once she had reached the end of the left side of the gardens, Alana made to turn around and go to the right side. Something caught her eye, however.

Set amongst a bed of blooming daisies was a handsome marble gravestone. Her curiosity getting the better of her, Alana knelt down in front of it and read:

_Her Royal Highness Princess Lilia_

_ 1020-1045_

_ Devoted daughter_

Alana's brow furrowed. A princess? Here? Almost 500 years ago? Her own family had only had the throne for about 200 years, and Alana didn't know much about who had been in power before then. She died at only 25… Alana shook her head. She knew this was no business of hers, and it would probably only lead to trouble.

She set off for the right side of the gardens, and strolled through the arch the welcomed her. To her amazement, these gardens had entirely different flowers than the last.

She took her time, pausing every so often to smell the fragrance. When she finally reached the end, she decided it must be time for lunch and turned around. But for the second time, something caught her eye.

Right inside the edge of the forest, which was only a few feet away, were some very exotic, very red flowers. Wondering why they weren't in the garden, she went to look at them, but stopped dead in front of the forest. _Do not go into the forest_, his voice resounded in her head. But it was only the very edge, and those flowers were so very beautiful…with that slim reasoning, she stepped into the forest.

The darkness seemed very complete in the forest. But Alana could still see the flowers and walked over to them. They were humongous, and were triangular shaped with a white stem of seeds coming through the middle. They smelled very sweet, and very relaxing, as a matter of fact. Alana sunk the forest floor, seemingly unable to stand. She decided to lie down, just to take a little nap.

Just as her eyes had fluttered closed, she heard a noise. A noise that sounded very much like a growl. She arched her back to look behind her and saw a wolf merely five feet away. It let out a long, piercing howl, which broke through Alana's stupor and she sat up. Turning so that she was on her knees, facing the menacing wolf, she glanced to her right and gasped. The edge of the forest now looked to be hundreds of feet away instead of just a few. She looked around her in panic and saw that there wasn't much that could help her. The wolf began to edge nearer as Alana backed away. It barked at her, and she tripped over a tree root and fell face-first into the dirt. Struggling to get up, the wolf lunged at her and pinned her back down, its claws scratching her arms. Baring its teeth, it came closer and closer…WHAM!

The wolf had been thrown sideways, and skidded across the ground. Alana looked up to see Thomas, looking more beastly than she had ever seen him, baring his long, sharp fangs. The wolf, however, didn't seem intimidated, and snapped his jaws at the beast. The beast growled in response, a growl that would have sent Alana running for her life had it been directed at her. The wolf suddenly jumped the beast and Alana saw its fangs sink into the beast's shoulder before the beast threw it off. It hit a tree and with a thud, landed unconscious on the ground.

Alana shakily got up, her dress torn and twigs sticking out of her hair. She saw Thomas inspect his shoulder, and then he said, "Come."

They walked out of the forest, and Alana trotted to keep up. Feeling horrible and too apologetic for words, Alana stuttered, "Sir, I-"

"You deliberately disobeyed the orders of this castle," he fairly yelled so harshly and severely that Alana felt very afraid of him, much more afraid than she had been the first time she had met him. "You are not to go outside again, is that clear?" he said very threateningly.

Alana nodded dumbly, too scared to say anything. She fell out of step with him, and walked at a normal pace; she was too tired to try and keep up with him. She was suddenly very, very aware of the terrible pain in her arms. She looked at them; there were one-inch cuts bleeding freely on both. Not wanting to complain, she fought back the tears that were fighting to get out of her eyes, and continued to walk. Her dress was slowly becoming ensanguined, and she was starting to feel very weak. She paused and leaned against an arch, her head swimming. After what seemed like an eternity, she gathered her strength and reached the doors to the library. Pulling the door open turned out to be a task too difficult to accomplish, so she leaned against the door, her eyes closing as she felt herself slipping out of consciousness.

Suddenly the door opened and she fell backwards into Thomas.

"You're hurt," he said flatly, a tiny trace of concern in his gruff voice.

"So are you," she said weakly. He picked her up, and without realizing what she was doing, she nuzzled her head against his fur. She felt his body tense underneath her, but she was in too much pain to recognize it.

"Thank you," she said feebly as he laid her down on the floor in front of the fire.

"For what?" he said shortly.

"For sav…saving me," she managed to say to before drifting into unconsciousness.


	5. The Book

_Chapter 5_

Alana woke up the next morning in her comfortable bed with a throbbing pain in each arm. She looked down and saw her arms were heavily bandaged and her head was also aching. She leaned back on the pillows and thought of yesterday.

She felt very ashamed of her behavior. She had known that she wasn't allowed in the forest, so why had she been so thickheaded? She promised herself not to disobey any of his rules again; she shuddered when she thought of how frightening he had looked when he was angry. She had completely forgotten that there was any aspect of him that was human; he had truly been a beast.

"Good morning!" Her door opened and Joy fluttered in, carrying a tray of food.

"Good morning," Alana replied halfheartedly.

"Master wishes that you stay in bed today," Joy said, setting down the food on Alana's lap.

Alana nodded submissively.

"Oh miss, you should not feel guilty. The zoreh flower has fooled much greater minds than you," the fairy said with an encouraging smile, fluttering next to Alana's bed. "I am sorry about the master's behavior…he has not had human company in a great while, I am afraid he is rather rusty," she said with a small chuckle.

Alana smiled back. Joy's words had comforted her, and she sat up and began to eat.

"I will come back with a book for you to read," Joy said.

"Thank you," Alana said as Joy flew out of the room.

She ate her breakfast, looking out the window. Gray clouds were gathering in the sky, threatening rain. Sure enough, by the time she was done, raindrops began to lightly fall. The doors to her balcony were open, letting the rain in. With a huge effort, Alana put the tray at the edge of her bed and began to get out to go shut them.

"No, no, no, you stay right where you are." Joy suddenly zoomed into the room, shutting the doors. Alana was extremely grateful, and fell back onto the bed.

Joy set down a book on the bed and held out a glass of clear liquid.

"Drink this, it will lessen the pain," she told Alana, putting it into her hands.

Alana took a sip, but quickly spit it back out. It tasted like a bad combination of radishes and grass.

"I am sorry it tastes dreadful, but you must drink it," Joy said.

Alana sighed, but took a deep breath and drank it very quickly. She shoved the glass back into Joy's hands as she spluttered.

"Yuck," she complained as she fell back onto the pillows. Joy looked at her pityingly.

"Here," the fairy said, handing Alana the book and a pen. "I think you will enjoy it," she said with a wink, and then fluttered back out of the room.

Alana looked at the book skeptically. She sat herself up comfortably, and then took the book.

It was a small, plain, red book, with no writing on the outside at all. She furrowed her brows, and cautiously opened it.

"Hello, Alana."

"AH!" She screamed and quickly shut it. Catching her breath, she stared down at it. A book that talks? That drink must have been worse than she thought. Yet she felt very curious. So she slowly opened it again.

"That wasn't very polite," the book said. It had a deep, male voice that resounded throughout the room.

"Sorry," she said, but the book made no apparent response. Then her eye caught the pen lying next to her hand.

"Ohhhh," she said. She picked up the pen and wrote on the blank page, _Sorry. I wasn't expecting a talking book._

"Perfectly understandable," the book replied.

_So_, she wrote, _what do people talk with you about?_

"Life. And it's problems. I'm excellent at listening," the book replied.

_How did you know my name?_ she wrote.

"I know everything," he said. "Except your feelings, which is why I'm here. I'm sensing you have a lot of confused feelings right about now."

_You've got that right_, she wrote.

"Tell me about your family," it offered.

Oddly feeling like she could confide in this magical book, Alana wrote, _Well, I'm still very sad about my father passing away. Although he did get me into this mess._

"Do you feel resentful about that?"

_Yes, I suppose so. And of course, Davina couldn't be sent, as she is the most perfect daughter in the world._

"I'm sensing sarcasm?"

Alana laughed. _Yes. It's just that I've always been invisible to both her and my mother. They probably don't even realize I'm gone._

"Have you ever tried to reach out to them?"

_I used to, when I was a child. I sort of gave up when I got older._

"Mmhmm, and then your father died. Did they notice you then?"

_Not really. Sure, my mother hugged me once, but then she hugged everyone in sight._

"If you could tell your mother anything, what would you tell her?"

Alana paused to think. _That I still love her, I guess. _She sighed. _And that I would like to be a real daughter._

"Now, how do you feel about your situation?"

She paused. _Well, I can't say. At first I thought I was alright, but then yesterday I became really frightened._

"Frightened how? Of him?"

_Well, I was beginning to discern the more human aspects of Thomas, but yesterday he had been so terrifying. Of course, it had been my fault._

"That flower is highly dangerous and powerful. The greatest king in the world would have done the same as you. But does he still scare you?"

Alana paused for a very long time. Finally, she wrote, _Yes._

* * *

Sitting in his room, Thomas sighed as he watched the conversation between his book and the girl in his mirror. So he _had_ scared her; he felt ashamed of himself.

"You didn't hold true to your promise," the mirror said in a wheezy voice.

"I know," he growled. He gazed into the mirror at the sight of the beautiful girl, rubbing her arms and writing in the book. He hadn't meant to be so harsh towards her, but to tell the truth, she baffled him. He had not met a single soul in the past five centuries who did not scream at the sight of him. Yet she had taken it so calmly, that he had been given hope. Maybe she was the one, the one who could finally break the curse.

But not if he scared her away. Like Joy always told him, he had to be gentle, kind …

"But I don't know how to be gentle or kind," he muttered to himself, burying his head in his hands… no, not his hands, his paws.

"But if you really got to know him, you would find he is not frightening," he heard the book tell Alana. "He just has not been in human company for a long, long time."

"That's what Joy said," he heard Alana write back. There was a pause. "What is it about this place?" she wrote. "Why is it cursed? How long has he been here?"

The beast groaned, but watched the girl intently. Her brow was furrowed as she wrote. She must be the same age as he… or at least, the same age as he had been, when he had been a man… he knew not whether the curse protected him from aging… he may never know.

"I'm afraid I cannot tell you, at least not today," the book replied. The beast let out a sigh of relief.

Yet he had to tell her someday. It wasn't fair to imprison her, yet not tell her what for. But how could he tell her? How could he tell her that he has been alive for five hundred miserable years, pacing this castle, trying to think of a way to break the curse that he so foolishly brought upon himself?

He would tell her. He would tell her everything. Just not today.


	6. Dinner

_Chapter 6_

As shocked as she was at this odd book, Alana found herself talking to it quite often. A few days passed her by without seeing the beast at all, and her arms were soon healed. As she didn't dare go outside, she resumed wandering the castle. The number of amazing rooms never ended, and she could spend days and not go in the same room twice. But she didn't get lost once, and Thomas didn't come to see her.

The weather was fast moving on to winter, and the wardrobe in Alana's room changed yet again, even though the castle was quite warm. A fire blazed in every room as outside the trees began to quickly lose their colorful leaves.

One day, Alana found herself in an art gallery of sorts. There were portraits of regal men and women, seemingly looking down their rather large noses with scorn at Alana as she walked around. She stopped in front of a picture of what she assumed to be parents and their daughter. The daughter was smiling happily as her parents' hands lay on her shoulders.

"My family."

Alana jumped sky-high at the sound of his gruff voice.

"Good gracious," she said, holding a hand to her chest, trying to regain her breath.

"Are you well?" he asked.

"Yes, you just startled me," she said.

"I am sorry."

"It's fine."

They stood silently for a moment or two, avoiding each other's eyes across the room. Suddenly, he walked toward her and stood next to her, gazing at the portrait. She looked up at him, but the look in his eyes was indecipherable.

"Your family, you said?" she asked timidly.

"Yes."

There was a moment of awkward silence.

"You must miss them," she offered.

He made a sound in his throat, but nodded. The fire was glinting off his fur, giving him a soft sort of glow. Alana felt her nervousness start to ebb away.

"I wanted to apologize," he said, not looking at her.

Puzzled, she asked, "What for?"

"For forbidding you to go outside. It was a rash decision, and I cannot keep you locked up like some prisoner," he said, lowering his head.

She shook her head. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. You were absolutely right; I completely disobeyed your rules," she said remorsefully.

"You were not at fault, however; the zoreh flower has fooled many a person."

"So I've heard," she said, giving him a small smile. He finally looked over at her. They gazed at each other for a moment or two, but then the beast broke away, returning his stare to the picture. Alana shrugged to herself and sat down on the bench near them. She also looked at the picture, wondering about the curse.

"You do not believe me," he said, looking at her puzzled face.

"It's not that, it's-" she trailed off.

He came over to her and sat down. "The curse?" he said.

She looked down at her hands, twisting the ring on her finger. "Well," she said, "yes, I suppose so."

He also looked at her hands. "I shall tell you someday," he said, "when you are ready."

She nodded. "I understand." She continued to frenetically twist the ring, until she felt his hand – paw – on top of her own.

"Sorry," she whispered.

"It is a beautiful ring," he said, looking at it.

"Thank you."

"But you will have no finger left if you continue to twirl it so madly."

She smiled and gave a soft laugh.

He stood up suddenly. "I should be leaving," he said, walking to the door. She stood up as well, but returned her attention to the portrait.

"Alana?"

She turned around to find him still at the door.

"Yes?"

"Perhaps, that is, if you would like, you could join me for dinner?" he said; his rumbling voice had an edge of nervousness.

Surprised, she said, "Yes, of course."

He nodded and left the room, leaving Alana to continue wondering about the portrait.

* * *

Alana took her time getting ready for dinner; Joy had picked out a gorgeous crimson dress and Hope had done her hair. She did a little twirl for the fairies as they applauded.

"You look ravishing," Joy said happily.

Alana was very curious as to why the two fairies seemed so immensely overjoyed that she looked so lovely. They were definitely hiding something from her.

"Well, time to go," Hope said, ushering Alana out of her room. She followed them down a set of hallways that Alana hadn't yet reached on her travels. They stopped in front of a set of great mahogany doors edged in gold. Joy and Hope winked at her, then fluttered away. Alana grabbed the huge lion-head door handle and pulled.

She was in the most beautiful and grandest dining room she had ever seen. She had thought the one at her own castle was impressive, but this topped it by a long shot. Floor to ceiling windows let in the setting sun, an enormous fireplace was aglow, a long, vast oak table was set in the middle of the room, shining with many candles, and a magnificent chandelier twinkled on the ceiling. Her head still craning every which way, Alana stepped down the carpeted stairs. Thomas, wearing a very fine satin cloak, was standing by one of the chairs. He held it out for her as she came closer.

"Good evening, Alana," he said.

"Good evening, Thomas," she replied, smiling at him. "This dining room is wonderful!"

The edge of his mouth twitched as if he was going to smile, but instead he nodded. She sat down in the chair he held out for her. Then he left her side and walked all the way to the other end of the table, so that she could barely see him.

"Is this how we are to eat?" she asked, amused.

"Yes," he said, sounding surprised. "Why?"

"You're so far away," she said simply. "I practically have to shout."

He seemed puzzled. Sighing, she got out of her chair and walked down to his end of the table, and sat down in the chair to the left of him. Settling herself, she turned and smiled at him.

"See? Now I could whisper and you would still hear me," she said.

He looked extremely confused, but just then a bowl of soup was placed down in front of them. Alana turned to thank whoever had set it there, but she could see no one. Shrugging, she picked up her spoon and began to eat.

After they were done with their soup, and it had mysteriously disappeared, Alana returned to examining the room.

"This really is splendid," she said, more to herself than to him. She leaned over the back of her chair, staring at the carpet.

"It's moving!" she exclaimed. The patterns in the carpet were twirling around and around.

He gave what she supposed was a laugh. "Yes," he said. "I wonder why, it hasn't done so in a very long time."

She laughed herself, and then turned back to face him.

"Alana," he said.

"Yes?"

"May I ask you something?"

"Of course."

He paused, searching for the right words. "Do you feel like a prisoner here?"

"What do you mean?" she asked, confused.

"Do you miss your family terribly?"

She laughed. "Hardly, and I doubt they miss me."

He looked shocked. "What do you mean?"

"My family barely recognized I even existed," she explained. "I doubt they notice any difference. I, on the other hand, think my situation has greatly improved."

"How so?"

"Well, for one, people around here actually acknowledge me. I have people to talk to, who actually listen to me. It's a very nice change," she said with a smile.

He grew silent again. Alana sighed; she had hoped that maybe if she shared some of her feelings with him, he might do the same. She knew nothing about him; she didn't even really know what he was like. And yet, she felt amazingly comfortable around him. He wasn't even that menacing-looking, if you thought about it.

He felt his eyes on her and looked up. He was about to say something when the next course arrived.

They ate in silence. Alana couldn't help but think of a million questions she would want to ask him, if she got the chance.

Thomas, on the other hand, was beginning to regret asking her to dinner. Having her sitting there, looking so beautiful and acting so natural, was making him feel very uncomfortable. He knew she wanted to get to know him, and felt sorry that she had shared so much with him and he still had told her nothing.

The course was over, and Alana was still staring around at the room like a small child. She fingered the elaborate candlesticks, gazed at the chandelier, and continued to stare at the carpet. Then her eyes caught something she hadn't noticed before; a beautiful grand piano. He noticed where she was looking and decided this was his chance.

"My mother and sister loved to play," he told her. She looked back at him in surprise.

"May I?" she asked tentatively, gesturing toward the piano.

"Of course," he said.

She rose from her seat and walked over to the piano. She lifted the dusty cover, and touched the even dustier keys. She placed her fingers over the smooth ivory, and began to play a song that her grandmother had taught her many years ago. The piano was slightly out of tune, and the keys creaked when she touched them, and yet Alana couldn't help but fall in love with this antediluvian piano.

Watching her, the beast felt something inside that he hadn't felt in a very long time, but he quickly shook it away. When she found out why there was curse in the first place, she wouldn't even want to look him in the face. And yet, he was running out of time very quickly. December was fast approaching, and then it would either be over or… She ended the song and turned to smile at him. There it was again! That feeling…

The dessert arrived just then, and Alana left the piano and went back to the dining room table. She gasped when she saw what was on her plate.

A slice of chocolate-raspberry cake was adorned by a single white rose. She smiled as she sat down. Picking up the rose, she looked at it for a moment and then placed it in her hair. The beast gave his grunt of a laugh again.

After eating their cake, the sun was long gone and a full moon shone in the sky. Thomas walked Alana back to her room.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" she asked, taking the rose out of her hair.

"Perhaps," he said.

She smiled, and with a mischievous shine in her eyes, she placed the rose in one of the button holes on his cloak. He stared down at it as if he had never seen anything quite like it.

"Good night, Thomas," she said.

"Good night, Alana."

* * *

_Five hundred years…_

The beast sat in his room, turning over and over his dinner with Alana, scouring it for any hint that she may be able to break the curse. He had barely two months left…

"You need to open up to her, sir."

Faith was fluttering throughout the room, dusting.

"She'll respond to that. She needs to get to know you, the real you," she said.

Thomas sighed. He wasn't sure he remembered what the real him was like.

"Sir, may I ask you something?" Faith said, fluttering next to his chair.

He merely glanced up at her.

"Do you think _you_ are in love with _her_?"

He sighed. He did still have that strange feeling that he'd had from the moment she had walked into the room that night.

"Because you can't force yourself to fall in love with someone, sir."

He sighed again, and said, "Leave me to think about it."

Faith chuckled, but said goodnight and left the room.

_If you do not love and are loved in return in five hundred years, you will remain a beast until the end of your days. If you love, but are not loved in return, your heart shall break and you will die a beast._

The words of the curse still rang sharp in his ears. He looked at his beastly reflection in the mirror; he longed to see his real eighteen-year-old reflection again. He could barely remember what he looked like.

And Alana… she was far more beautiful than he had let himself believe the first time they met. He pulled the rose out of his button hole, and laughed silently.

His long life might only last for one more month. It was all up to Alana now…

For he knew now that he had finally fallen in love. It may have taken five hundred years, but Thomas was finally in love.


	7. Time Together

_Chapter 7_

In the days that followed that dinner, Thomas made an effort to spend more time with Alana, something she greatly appreciated and enjoyed. As the days grew colder, they spent more and more time indoors, and Thomas showed her many rooms that she had not yet discovered on her travels: an indoor greenhouse, a planetarium, even a bird sanctuary.

One clear but frozen day, Alana left her room and went to the library, where she settled herself beside the roaring fire, picking up the book that she had left there the day before. She had been there naught but ten minutes when Thomas came into the room, and gave her his usual grunt of a hello.

"Good morning!" she said cheerfully.

He sat down in his chair near her and said, "Are you always this merry in the winter?"

She chuckled. "Not always."

"What are you reading?" he asked.

She held up her book to show him.

"Ah, a fine book," he gave his approval.

She looked at the book for a moment as well; it had to be decades, if not centuries, old. She looked back up at him.

"Have you read all the books in here?" she asked.

He grunted, but his eyes gazed at the vast shelves. "No," he replied, "but I'm getting there."

She chuckled. "Do you have a favorite?" she inquired.

His forehead creased in thought. "I don't believe so… some of these, though, I have not seen in ages."

She bit her lip to stop herself from asking how long he had lived here. She knew it would not please him, and the last thing she wanted was to anger him. She changed the subject.

"My tutor always said I drew the wrong conclusions from the books we read. She always told me I was just making them up," she said with a laugh.

"Were you?"

"Sometimes."

He grunted his gruff laugh.

"But other times I was being completely sincere! She was just a stuffy know-it-all," she said with scowl, remembering her uptight tutor.

He laughed again, and for once it reached his eyes; they lit up as bright as the fire. She smiled.

"But whenever she became angry, I made the mistake of getting angry as well," she went on. "But I honestly think that there are some books that just don't have a deeper meaning! 'Why can't there be literature that's purely meant for entertainment?' I would ask her. Then she would hit me with a ruler… see that scar?" she said, holding up her hand, where there was a visible scar that ran from her pinky to her wrist. He took her hand in his paw and held it to the light.

"Surely your parents didn't approve of this," he said with concern.

She shrugged. "They didn't much care… I was always getting into trouble."

His eyes smiled. "A rebel?"

She laughed. "Hardly."

"All children are rebels."

"Were you?" she asked, but then bit her lip again – would he mind the question?

But instead of getting angry, he sighed. "The worst kind."

She fell silent, knowing that was the end of the conversation. She looked back down at her book, but couldn't concentrate. Perhaps his rebelliousness was why he was cursed – for now she had decided that he wasn't just some magical marvel of a beast, that could talk and behave human, but that he had once been a man who had been cursed. Why else would he have a human family, which she had seen in the portrait? She just wished she knew why, but she wasn't about to ask him. He would tell her when he was ready – _if_ he was ever ready. The problem was that her impatience was mounting; she felt as if she was the only one who ever spoke. All he ever did was comment on the book she was reading, or teach her a constellation. But then again, it was awfully nice to have someone listen to her for once, and he always was patient and attentive as she rambled on.

She closed the book and stood up. His eyes looked up from his book and gazed at her.

"Have you finished it?" he asked.

She looked down at the book, smoothing its fine cloth cover; another layer of dust appeared on her hands. She shook her head.

"You do not like it?"

"No, it's not that," she said, not knowing how to explain. "I just… feel like something a bit lighter," she lied, and went off to find another book.

Thomas followed her with his eyes as she walked away. He sighed; she kept telling him stories, kept telling him more about her, and he… he couldn't even conjure up a good memory to share with her. He watched her wander through the library, one hand trailing along the spines of the innumerable books. He had thought that their dinner would have broken down whatever barriers he had, but he still felt unable to tell her anything. She must know now that there was a spell upon him of some kind, but he still felt reluctant to tell her anything from when he was a man. It was very painful to speak of that time so long ago; he could barely remember what it was like to have hands and feet.

He suddenly thought of something, an excellent way to tell her about himself. He stood up, leaving his book on the chair.

"Alana," he called to her; she was standing three levels up on a ladder. She looked down.

"Yes?" she answered.

He reached out a paw. "Come, I want to show you something."

Her face brightened and she scurried down from the ladder, trotting to meet him. Laying her arm atop his, she smiled eagerly as he led her out of the library.

They traveled to the north side of the castle, to a tower. He let her walk up the circular staircase in front of him, and was satisfied when he heard her gasp as she reached the top.

"Oh, Thomas… what is this room?" she said. They had entered into the topmost room of the tower, brightly lit by the midday sun. The walls were plastered with maps, fantastical instruments sat on desks, and thick, leather-bound books lined bookshelves. And in the corner sat a piano, but it was nothing like the one in the dining room. This piano was smaller and made of a reddish cherry wood, with smooth ivory keys and a velvet bench. And even though she sneezed from the dust every five seconds, nothing deterred Alana from scouring the room.

"I am sorry it is so dusty in here. I have meant to come clean it for some time," he told her.

"What is it?" she repeated.

"It was my grandmother's room, when she was young. She was very adventurous, but her parents never let her do the traveling she had always wanted to do. So she sent me to do it for her."

Alana had just discovered one map on the wall that was full of little pins sticking out from various places in the world.

"Those are all the places she sent me to," he told her. "Each trip I was to keep a journal," he said, going over to the bookshelves. He found what he was looking for, and pulled out his very old journal, causing an explosion of dust to fly into his face. Swiping it away, he carefully opened the book. The ink was faded but still readable; the spine creaked and the pages were brittle and yellow. But when Alana saw what he held, she hopped over in anticipation.

"Is this it?" she asked excitedly. "Your journal?"

"Yes," he said as he handed it to her carefully. "I'm surprised it has survived so long."

Alana eagerly looked at the journal, which was full of writing and sketches.

"April 15. We have just crossed the border into Veranla, and met a group of hunters who have showed us a much easier path through the woods, for which we are very grateful," she began to read aloud. "Lord Tanny has already ripped all three pairs of his britches from the undergrowth, and looks like a common peasant. We ridiculed him to the point that he marched straight into the next village and demanded a woman fix the tears. The woman actually demanded payment, but Lord Tanny was too fast for her. We all had a hearty laugh after that one." She paused, her forehead knitted. Thomas had sighed and sat down on a bench, repulsed by his former self.

"This can't be your journal," Alana suddenly said decisively.

He looked up at her in surprise. "Why do say that?"

"This doesn't sound like you at all," she said. "Much too arrogant."

His heart was very grateful to hear her say it, but she was all too wrong. He gestured for her to sit down.

"Alana, when I was a man… I _was_ very arrogant. And foolish and selfish and vain…" he paused.

"Then what changed you?"

For a moment he was so joyful that she was sure he had changed that he didn't answer. But after a second, he said,

"Time. Many long years of living alone in a castle can change a man… if there is still a man within me." He buried his face in a paw.

Alana suddenly moved from her stool to sit next to him, and to his great surprise, put her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder.

"_I_ think there is," she said simply.

Caught between his surprise and his appreciation, he merely said, "Thank you."

They sat there for a minute or two, until Alana said, "But thank you."

"For what?" Thomas asked.

She pulled her head up to look him in the eye. "For all of this. For listening to me when I ramble. For being so patient with me."

He smiled. "Your welcome… it's my pleasure."

She smiled as well. "So, what's Veranla like?"

Thomas knew this was what he'd been waiting for, and seized the opportunity to tell her stories of his journeys. Alana spent the afternoon rapt by his tales, and Thomas, at last, was genuinely happy.

* * *

"Would you like some coffee, Miss Alana?"

Alana didn't answer. She was too busy staring at the snow that had begun to fall outside. She stuck her head out of the window, trying to catch some on her tongue.

Faith laughed. "Miss Alana, you'll catch cold if you do that," she said.

Alana pulled her head back in. "Sorry. It's just the snow seems so much… cleaner, or something, out here than back in the city," she said. And it was true. The gardens down below and the tips of the bare branches on the trees were pristine with a white mantle of snow. It sparkled like sugar in the clear winter sun.

The month of December had arrived, and the winter holiday of Evemass was fast approaching. It celebrated the coming of the new year, and had long been Alana's favorite holiday.

"Faith?"

"Yes, miss?"

"Do you decorate the castle for Evemass?" Alana asked as she sat down for her breakfast.

"No," Faith said sadly. "It has been a long time since we have."

Alana clicked her tongue. Faith left the room, and Alana decided she would ask Thomas if she could decorate. Finishing her breakfast, she quickly changed and bounded out of the room in search of him.

She found him in the portrait gallery she had been through before.

"Good morning, Thomas!" she said, bouncing into the room with her winter energy. "Did you see the snow?"

He turned around and smiled at her. "Yes. I was going to suggest a walk outside if you wish."

"I'd love to!" she said. "But I have to ask you something first."

"And what is that?"

"May I decorate for Evemass?"

At first his face darkened, but after a few moments silence in which he pondered it over, he looked at her eager face and said, "Of course."

She clapped her hands together. "Yes!"

* * *

"Are you well?"

Thomas had seemed very depressed ever since the month of December had arrived, and Alana was growing worried.

"Yes, I am fine," was his curt answer. Her shoulders slumped; she had hoped he could tell her.

They walked outside, as Alana occasionally picked holly branches and berries. Come to think of it, the fairies had not seemed as cheerful and joyful as they usually were, as well. Something was happening, something that Alana didn't know about. Something with the curse, perhaps? Alana looked over at Thomas; he seemed like he had given in to something, some sort of feeling…

Alana hoped that whatever it was would pass, and that she could have an enjoyable Evemass at the castle. Her basket was soon full with leaves, branches, and berries, so they went back inside. Thomas left Alana in the hall, where she had decided to begin decorating.

"Care for some help?" Joy fluttered into the room, carrying some string.

Alana smiled. "Yes, please." Joy handed her the string, and they set to work on making some wreathes.

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Alana stole glances at Joy every so often; her delicate face was screwed up in concentration, but Alana had a funny feeling that she was trying to keep her mind off of something else. Her wings had begun to somewhat wilt in the past few days, and her sparkling glow was diminishing.

Deciding she would get to the bottom of this, Alana said, "Joy?"

"Yes?"

"What's happening?"

Joy looked up, a look of fear passing over her face. "Whatever do you mean?" she said in a false voice.

"I know something's wrong. I want to know what it is," Alana demanded.

"Nothing's wrong."

"Is it something I can fix? Or is it something I did?"

Joy looked up into Alana's worried face, and sighed sadly.

"The time will come," she said simply.

"What does that mean?"

Joy made no answer. For the second time, Alana's shoulders slumped.

"Joy?" she asked again.

"Yes?"

"Why are you here?"

The fairy looked up in surprise.

"What do you mean?" she said, but this time, it wasn't false.

"Why are you servants here?" Alana thought of something else. "How long have you been here?"

Joy sighed, sitting in mid-air, her wings fluttering.

"Alana, there are many things you don't know."

"Then tell me! I've lived her for two months now, and nothing has ever been explained to me! I don't know _why_ I'm here, why he's here, why you're here… anything!" Alana vented, her frustration escaping her.

Joy looked sad, but took a deep breath, as if preparing herself. "Alana, I cannot tell you why you are here, for you must find that on your own. However… time is little.

"We…Faith, Hope, and I, are sisters. We are the only fairies of our tribe left on this land. Over five hundred years ago, we were sent to live and work with a sorceress, a very powerful sorceress who lived in these woods. This castle was here at that time, and the people in it hardly ever came into the forest.

"Now… I cannot tell you how the curse came to be, for I do not know myself. But when the sorceress cast it, she put her spirit into it, and so it reigns over this castle as long as the curse thrives. Since we were under her command, we fell under the power of her curse as well, and have been servants in this castle ever since." She stopped, and continued her wreath, not looking at Alana.

Alana sat dumbfounded, the holly leaves cutting her hands. _Five hundred years?_ Her head was reeling with so many questions, but she started with, "What happened to the sorceress?"

"Her body has passed on."

"Five hundred years?" Alana murmured to herself.

"It will be five hundred years this Evemass," Joy said, but suddenly clapped her hand to her mouth. She shook her head, sending a sparkly dust onto her wreath. "I should not have said that," she muttered under her breath.

"This Evemass?" Alana repeated. This was almost too much to take in… she left her wreath and Joy in the hall and went outside, heading to a certain spot.

_Her Royal Highness Lilia_

_1020-1045_

"Five hundred years ago!" Alana said to herself, reading the gravestone she had seen almost a month ago. Thinking of something else, she hurried back inside.

She went straight to the portrait gallery, where she hurried to the portrait of Thomas' family. Staring at it, she looked at a ring that was on the girl's finger. When she peered really close, she saw an L inscribed upon the golden band.

"Princess Lilia!" she exclaimed. But her triumph soon faded. What had she proved? That a girl named Lilia had lived here five hundred years ago? But that meant that Thomas was her brother!

"Aha!" she exclaimed. Thomas, the fairies, this castle…it had all been here for five hundred years! But then, why were they miserable?

"Five hundred years," Alana mumbled. Maybe…maybe the curse said something about five hundred years, like something will happen in five hundred years! But then why would they be sad? Unless…

"Alana?"

"AH!"

Alana shrieked in surprise as Hope fluttered into the room.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean to frighten you."

"That's alright," Alana said. Hope looked worried.

"What's wrong?" Alana asked.

"I have a message for you, Alana," the fairy said, fluttering nervously by the door, as if she wished beyond anything that she did not have to bring this message.

"Alright," Alana said slowly.

Hope took a deep breath. "Your sister is getting married."

There was a pause.

"What?!" was Alana's slow response. Her jaw had fallen open, trying to comprehend.

"And they wish you to come home."

Alana's mind went blank; it was too much to sort it all out. "How do you know this?"

"It is all over the kingdom…and I supposed they would want you home."

"When is it?"

"Evemass."

"Evemass?" So soon?

"Yes. Perhaps you should go tell Thomas."

"Thomas!"


	8. Alana's Frustration

_Chapter 8_

Alana walked slowly to Thomas' room. Her discoveries of his family and the fairies had faded, replaced by the shock of Davina's marriage. She had almost forgotten about her family, and she had always thought that Davina would never get married.

She finally reached the door, and deciding she could resist it no longer, she knocked on the door. But after a pause, there was no answer. She knocked again.

"Thomas?" she called. Again no answer. She stood puzzled for a moment; he had specifically told her he would be spending the rest of the afternoon in his room. So where was he?

Too antsy to wait around, Alana pulled open the door and stepped inside. The room was empty and quiet, except for the occasional spark from the warm fire. Alana was frustrated; she needed to talk to him, but he could be anywhere in this enormous castle. She looked around hopelessly for any clues as to where he had gone, but found none. The only sign that he had been there was the book lying on his chair.

She was about to leave, however, when the door in the corner caught her eye. She remembered his fierce warning that she was prohibited from what was behind it, but that had been so long ago… she walked over to it and laid her hand on the doorknob. Did she dare? She wanted to talk to him so badly… her desire to see him overrode her fear, and she pulled the knob and went through the door.

At first, she could see nothing, it was so dark. But as her eyes adjusted, she saw the faint glimmer of a candle down the hallway in which she stood. Squinting, she also thought she could see the outline of a figure, but suddenly her fear returned. Placing one hand on the wall, she walked slowly and softly down the carpeted hall toward the light. She paused at a doorway, able to see a large room lit by the soft glow of the candle. But she did not pause to look around, for in front of her lay Thomas on a chaise, and he looked so still that she feared he was dead.

Panicked, she hurried over to him. "Thomas," she whispered, laying her hands on his chest. "Thomas!"

He didn't move. Alana looked around for anything that would help; but all she saw were slashed curtains, overturned tables, and smashed vases. Her fear escalating, she shook Thomas' shoulders.

"Thomas!" she cried, tears pricking at her eyes.

But he suddenly woke with a start, and a growl rumbled in his throat.

"Alana, what are you doing? I forbade you to come in here!" he roared, his face contorting in anger.

Alana couldn't help but be terrified, and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"I'm sorry, Thomas, I just-"

"GET OUT!" he yelled.

She didn't need telling twice. She fled the room, bursting through the doors, and didn't stop running until she had reached the garden outside. She didn't have a cloak on, but it didn't matter; she could only feel the fear and sadness in her heart.

The garden was snowy and beautiful, but the flowers, which had so magically lasted all autumn, were turning a terrible black and dying. Alana stopped, entranced and yet unsettled by their mysterious behavior. She suddenly felt fed up with this magical castle and all its mysteries, and not being able, or allowed, to understand it. She wanted to go home, where, even if she was ignored, at least she was kept informed.

And Thomas… nothing made her sadder than he. She had felt so close to him, as if they had understood each other, but now she knew that she would never be able to understand him, because he never let her. She had fooled herself into thinking she had been happy here… but how could she be happy in a place she barely understood?

Her tears ending, she no longer felt sad, and instead felt angry. She had been wasting her time… and now she would end it. Straightening herself, she clutched her reddened hands to her sides and began to walk back inside. Before she could reach the door, though, she saw Thomas standing on the side of the castle, looking at her expectantly. But she didn't want to be the one to fix things, not again. She was tired, and avoiding his gaze, walked inside to her room.

* * *

Thomas had overheard Hope's message for Alana, and it had been the last straw. Once he heard it, he knew there was no hope that Alana would stay and figure out the spell, and had gone to his room to lie down.

So many things had run through his mind… his regret at being so foolish as a young man, his long, tortured years alone, his imminent death. But more than anything, he felt his anger at Alana boil inside him, his anger at her ignorance, her generosity, and her inability to love him. All that had exploded when he'd awoken to find her standing over him, worried and concerned. How could she be concerned for him when she had no idea what she had done to him? She had sent him to his death.

But her eyes as he raged on… the moment she had run away, all his anger turned on himself. It was _his_ fault she didn't know what was coming, because for all his attempts, he had been too scared to tell her the truth. He had been such a fool… and now she would think he hadn't changed, that he truly was a beast.

From the window he had seen her run to the gardens, and went outside to apologize. He knew that if he explained, she would be understanding, like she always was, and that she would find the right words to say.

But then something strange happened. As he stood waiting for her to run over and console him… she didn't. Instead, she looked over, anger and sadness passing over her face, and then walked inside without a word.

And now Thomas didn't know what to do. His flawless Alana, his comfort and support… was flawed. Instead of consoling him, she was angry with him. But instead of feeling infuriated again, he felt relieved. In fact, it wasn't a flaw at all; it was human. And it gave him the strength to feel the man within him once again, and he went inside to apologize and beg her forgiveness.

Thomas knocked on her bedroom door. "Alana? I must speak with you."

There was quiet pause, but then the door opened. And there they were: her bags were packed, her room emptied. Thomas panicked at the sight.

"What are you doing?" he asked anxiously, walking in and surveying the room.

"Why? Are you going to force me to stay, like the prisoner I am?" Alana said softly.

Thomas turned to look her. Her eyes were red, her hair was down and tousled, and she worse the simplest brown frock, but to him, she would never look more beautiful. He knew he couldn't keep her; he had lived five hundred years. His time on earth was done.

He shook his head. "No. I want you to go," he said.

A sad smile tugged at her lips, but she nodded. "I thought so."

But he shook his head again. "No, not like that. _I_ don't want you to go, but you must. You can't stay here… I can't keep you any longer."

She sighed. "I just wish you would tell me the truth."

He struggled to find the words. "I wish I could," he finally said. He paused, and looked up at her, not bothering to disguise the sadness in his eyes. "You are not the prisoner, Alana. I am."

Tears fell from her eyes as she crossed the room and flung her arms around him.

"I'm sorry, Thomas. I haven't done enough."

His heart broke to hear her say it. "No, you've done more than you know." He sighed, but knew he couldn't take much more of this.

"Come," he said, "stop these tears. You still have a few days left with us."

She smiled and nodded, wiping her eyes. "And I can still finish my decorations."

He nodded. "I'd like that."

"Would you like to help?" she asked hopefully.

He wanted to spend as much time with her as possible, and so nodded.

She grinned happily, and took his paw. They went down to the entrance hall, where she had started to hang a few wreaths here and there. She sat down on the grand carpet and picked up the string and some branches, showing him how to make a wreath. Reluctantly, he sat down next to her, unsure whether he'd be able to manage it. Luckily, she didn't notice when he just set the branches in his lap and didn't work.

"Tell me of your home," he said. "And your family."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. She looked around the grand hall, thinking of the even grander hall at the palace. But then she suddenly realized that Thomas didn't know she was a princess, and for some reason, she didn't want to tell him.

"It's big," she began lamely. "Huge, actually. We have a hall like this, except it's entirely white and marble. There's a painting of my mother on that wall," she pointed to the left, "and one of the whole family on the other one. The steps aren't carpeted, so you can never sneak in," she said with a laugh. "There aren't nearly as many fantastic rooms as you've got." She paused. "I'm going to miss that."

Not wanting to dwell on her departure, Thomas urged her to speak about her family.

"Well, they're… busy," she went on. "My mother is a very busy, running the… household, and such. My sister is five years older, and my mother was constantly trying to get her to marry. I'm amazed she managed to do it. My sister kept resisting it so much, I thought she would never marry."

Thomas smiled. "And your father?"

Alana paused. "My father? My father is dead."

Thomas frowned. "Oh. I am sorry."

Alana shrugged. "He was never healthy, and one winter… it was just too much for him," she said, and then sighed. "I apologize, for my father."

"What do you mean?" Thomas asked.

"Well, he _did_ trespass," she said. "But then, I wouldn't have come here if he hadn't. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"

Thomas nodded. "Yes. I'm afraid I wasn't quite the same then." He paused. "Alana, you have no idea how much you've changed me."

She smiled sadly. She didn't like the finality of the conversation. She could feel things had changed, now that she was leaving. But then she felt guilty, for whatever reason, for not telling him the real truth, that she was a princess. Did it matter? Would he be angry? After all, he had thought her father was a farmer. Would he care that her father had lied? Now that she had been here, and they gotten along so well, she hoped that he wouldn't mind. But just as she opened her mouth to tell him, Faith flew in.

"Sir, sorry for interrupting, but there's something you need to see," Faith said, throwing anxious glances at Alana, who sat, confused.

Thomas, however, nodded and stood. "Stay here, Alana."

Alana nodded and watched them leave, her impatience returning. She suddenly felt the emptiness of his words. She couldn't be that meaningful to him if he didn't trust her to know what was going on. She stood up, her wreath falling to the ground. Although her gut told her not to follow, her frustration was too much to just stand around. She jogged lightly after them, her footsteps silent on the carpet. They had gone down a hallway she had never been through before, next to the fireplace on the southern wall. Down the dim corridor, she saw Faith's sparkling figure up ahead, and Alana slowed to a pace that was far enough behind as to not be seen. The hallway had no doors on either side, but seemed to simply stretch on forever. Alana was thinking of just doubling back – perhaps it wasn't that important – but then Thomas and Faith halted. Alana stopped a few yards behind them, straining her eyes. There was a sudden noise like a door opening, and sure enough, the darkness lifted as a door opened in front of Thomas and Faith, letting in a flood of light. They left the door open, and Alana, panicking slightly, hid behind a tall statue near the door. Thomas and Faith walked in to the white room, which was lit by a glittering chandelier. But for all the grandeur of the room, nothing was in it, at least not anything that Alana could see. She crouched down and peered her eyes around the statue's base. Now she could see Thomas and Faith standing and looking down at something in the middle of the room.

"I am sorry, sir," Faith said, her voice quivering.

Alana heard Thomas sigh. He bent down and she caught the sound of a rustle of paper.

"The end has come," he read. Alana knitted her brow. What did that mean? But then Thomas took a step back and Alana could see what lay on the floor: a white unicorn with a golden horn. Her jaw dropped, and she had to try and breathe quietly. She saw Thomas crush the paper in his hand and let it drop to the floor.

"Thank you, Faith," he said shortly and turned to leave.

"Sir?" Faith said.

Thomas stopped and turned slowly.

"I know you can't tell her everything, but at least tell her how you feel."

But Thomas shook his head. "She must leave. She cannot stay… I won't let her."

He then left the room, sweeping right past Alana without noticing her. Alana watched Faith put her head in her hands and flutter out of the room after him. Alana stood and, making sure they had truly left, crept into the room.

The unicorn lay peacefully, shiny and beautiful. Did Thomas love her? But then why would he let her go? She didn't understand it, but her anger subsided as she realized how sad and alone Thomas had looked. 'The end has come'… Thomas did not want her to see the end, whatever it was.

She straightened, and with one last look at the unicorn, hurried out of the room and down the hall, coming out into the empty entrance hall. She abandoned her modest wreathes and walked to her room, where her bags were half-way packed. If Thomas truly wanted her to go, she would. But she knew, as she lay down in fatigue, that she would always look back and wonder.


	9. Goodbye

_Chapter 9_

As December inched along, and Alana's days grew numbered, something strange started happening in and around the castle. The gardens grew dull, the white roses wilted, and the candles burned low and dimly. The castle was dark and foreboding, and Alana grew anxious. Thomas and the fairies tried to seem their normal selves, but she saw the shadows in their eyes. The fairies no longer glowed or sparkled, and their wings seemed to barely hold them up. Thomas seemed thinner, and a glaze had come over his eyes. With her departure so close, Alana grew frustrated that she didn't know what was happening, but didn't want to leave the castle in such a state.

As her days dwindled, she took to wandering the castle, saying goodbye to each room. It pained her to realize how much she would miss the castle, and had to force herself to remember why she was leaving. Thomas avoided her, and the fairies moved about so slowly that the castle seemed empty. Alana missed her hours spent with Thomas dreadfully, but whenever she went to find him, he was nowhere to be found.

The wind outside grew bitter and piercing. The day before she was to leave, Alana saw Thomas outside from her window. He sat in the middle of the bleak garden, his shoulders hunched over. She saw the chance to talk with him before she left, so she put on a crimson velvet cloak and a muff around her hands and went outside.

Her blonde hair was instantly swept about her face as soon as she stepped out. Not caring, she walked carefully on the thin ice that covered the ground to where Thomas sat. She sat down next to him, but said nothing. They sat like that for a few minutes, just looking out at the gray skies and feeble sun. The trees creaked in the biting wind.

"Thomas, maybe I should come back after Evemass," she said at last, her voice almost carried away with the wind.

He shook his head. "No, you will not be able to." His voice was heavy and tired.

"Thomas, I don't understand what's happening, but I don't want anything to happen to you or the castle," she said. "I want to be able to come back," she said, finally voicing the truth.

He turned to look at her, his green eyes full of resignation. She didn't like it, and she somehow knew that she wouldn't be able to come back.

"Alana… you shouldn't want to come back. It will only make it worse."

"Make what worse?" she asked quickly.

"You wouldn't be happy. I can't make it so… and you deserve to be happy."

"But so do you, Thomas!" She paused. "Just tell me why I couldn't make you happy. I tried so hard."

Thomas put his head in his paws. "You have made me happy, more than I can tell you. I thank you for making these last few months the best of my life."

She sighed. "Then I should stay."

"No, you must go home. You don't want to stay here."

"But that isn't home!" she cried suddenly, realizing the truth. "This is my home! This is where I've been happy!"

"Alana…" he trailed off.

"What?" she said, her voice revealing her desperation. "What don't I know? I want to know, I want to understand!"

He fell silent, as she began to shiver violently.

"You must go back inside," he said. Her body shaking with cold, she only nodded. He helped her stand, and then walked her back to the library. Taking her to the fire, he sat her down in a chair and then knelt in front of her.

"Alana, please try to understand. I didn't want to tell you because I wanted you to stay… I'm still the selfish young man I once was." He stood and walked to the mantle, staring into the fire. He sighed, as if preparing himself.

"I have lived here for five hundred years." He laughed sarcastically. "Five hundred long, miserable years. And all because of my… greed, my avarice." He took a deep breath.

"I was the prince of these lands, my father the king. The complete wealth and power of my station quickly went to my head. I had no desire to care for my people or the pain and poverty they were in. I had no cares for anyone but myself.

"The forest had long been forbidden to me. I had often been stopped in my attempts to enter it. I had heard that many treasures lay in there; gold, gems, elixirs that could extend your life." He paused, his eyes distant as if he could see beyond the fire. His voice heavy, he went on.

"When I was twenty, I refused to be held back any longer; I was a man, I could do whatever I pleased. When my family left to visit an uncle, I stayed behind. I grabbed my arrows and sword and entered the forest. I walked deep into the trees, until I could no longer see the sky above me. The air grew cold, and I knew I should leave, but I did not want to give up hope. So I stayed." He paused, and Alana sat in rapt silence.

"Suddenly, a great, glowing white light came from my left. I turned to it, holding my bow and arrow in my hand. Out of the trees galloped a white unicorn, its horn golden. I knew that no one had ever captured a unicorn, and so I raised my arrow and slew it through the heart." He paused again. His voice was intense, and Alana did not even dare to breathe.

"I had not even begun to think of what to do next when a sparkling of white dust appeared, and before I could run, it formed into a sorceress, dressed in white. She knelt down next to the unicorn, and placed a hand over its wound. The wound healed, but the unicorn did not move. She turned to me and said,

"'You have slain a pure and innocent creature, and for no other reason than greed. You shall be punished.' Then she disappeared, as well as the unicorn. Laughing it off, I left the forest and returned home.

"That night, I went to sleep a man." He paused. "But I woke up like this," he said, looking at his paws. His jaw tightened.

"My elder sister came home early. In the fury of the curse and my complete forgetfulness of how to act like a man, I… I killed her."

"Lilia…" Alana whispered to herself. Thomas looked at her.

"Yes. My parents come home the following day, but in the horror of her death and the hideousness of me, they fled. The forest has since wrapped itself around the castle, and the fairies have been forced under its spell." He fell silent.

Alana took a deep breath, trying to comprehend all that she had heard. It was what she had needed to hear long ago, and now she understood him, and realized why he was who he was. She admired him for coming so far, but pitied him for the weight of the things that bore on his mind. She looked up at Thomas, who stood hunched over the fire, her eyes filled with a new kind of understanding and compassion. She stood up and walked over to him, resting her head on his shoulder.

"You've learned your lesson then, haven't you?" she said softly. He looked down at her, his eyes filled with appreciation. She smiled at him.

"Yes, I have," he said resolutely.

She gave him an extra squeeze, and then left the library and went to her room.

She threw herself onto her bed. Although she now understood why Thomas was here, and why the fairies were here, she still didn't know the curse. Why had he demanded her father send a daughter to his castle? What had he expected her to do?

But perhaps he hadn't expected anything… perhaps he had just wanted company. Perhaps the curse was simply that he had been turned into a beast. But there had to be a way to break it, and Alana was mystified. Surely it wasn't that he simply learn his lesson, because he had already done that.

She took off her cloak and muffler and stared out the window. Standing up, she crossed the room to her balcony, gazing at the sad, lifeless roses. Five hundred years… he had said that she shouldn't want to come back, that it would only make it worse if she did. Everything was dying in the castle… perhaps that was it. Maybe the curse would only last five hundred years before everything died and ended. But that would mean Thomas would die! But what would her staying do, if she didn't know how, or couldn't, help him?

Alana sighed and looked around her room. She didn't want to go home; how could she be sure if her mother and sister would even notice she had returned? She sat down and looked at herself in the mirror. She realized how much older she looked since she had come here, and how much older she felt. Perhaps her family had changed as well.

She sighed and began to prepare for her last night in the castle. How was she going to say goodbye when she knew it would be forever?

* * *

Thomas sat in his room on the night before Alana left, trying to avoid all thoughts. He would die in a few days; it was time to let this life go. But he couldn't help but be nagged by the knowledge that his life had been worthless. If only Alana could know the curse, and know how to break it. Then he could still make something of this life.

But could she break it, even if she knew how? Did she love him? Or did she just pity him? He wanted to believe that, if she knew he would die, she would realize she loved him. But he would never know, because he couldn't tell her the curse.

The spirit of the sorceress bore down on the castle. He could feel her triumph, her exultant revenge. He knew she would go to great lengths to see him die a monster, and all his hope faded.

Lying down to sleep, Thomas' only comforting thought was that, even if his life had been of no value, at least he had loved.

* * *

Alana woke the following morning to an even more miserable day than the day before. The gardens were covered in a layer of ice that Alana had not seen yesterday, and the roses against the wall were shriveled and almost black. The candles along her wall were barely lit, and the sun shone pathetically in a gray sky.

Her heart was very heavy indeed when she dressed and went downstairs. Thomas was in the kitchen when Alana came in to get breakfast.

"Good morning," he said. Alana's heart sank. He seemed weak, and was sitting at the table hunched over. His eyes, she noticed, were dull and cheerless.

"Good morning," she weakly replied. They sat in silence as she ate her breakfast.

When she finished, he said, "Well, I suppose it's time."

She nodded and they walked slowly to the great hall. The brightest part of the grand room were the small decorations Alana had put up. The fairies fluttered in, opening the front doors.

Alana's horse stood in the walkway, saddled and ready to go. Alana hesitated, but then felt Thomas' paw against her back.

"Go," he whispered. "But take this," he said, holding out a healthy white rose. She stared at it in amazement.

"How-?" she began to say.

"Something to remember me by," he said, his voice unwavering. She took it gently.

"How will I know how you're doing?" she asked, looking up at him.

His mouth twitched, and she thought she saw a tear in his eye. "Keep the rose," he said softly. "No matter what."

She nodded, but suddenly threw her arms around him.

"I'll miss you," she whispered. "Thank you for giving me a true home."

He smiled. "You made it a home, Alana."

She returned the smile and he helped her mount her horse. The fairies fluttered around, securing her bag and tying her cloak.

"Goodbye, Thomas," Alana said, and before she second-guessed herself, she rode away. The fairies waved, but apparently it was too much for them, and they zoomed back into the castle. Thomas stood on the walkway, growing smaller and smaller as she trotted away.

"Goodbye," he said. "I love you," he added softly.


	10. Home Again

_Chapter 10_

The ride to her old home was slow and leisurely, as the horse trotted along. Alana had to force herself to keep going, and not turn back to the castle. That part of her life was over. The air, to Alana's great surprise, was getting warmer and the road less icy as she moved farther away from the castle. As the trees thinned, and she could see the sky, she noticed that the gray clouds that had covered the castle had disappeared, replaced by a serene blue sky. She was puzzled about this, but shrugged it off.

She reached the edge of the forest by midday, and was amazed to see that no snow whatsoever covered the ground. The air, although cold, was much calmer and not as biting. She looked out into the distance with a somewhat heavy heart, and saw the palace rising up over the hill. She sighed, but nudged the horse to go a little faster.

In a half hour she reached the palace. Smiling, she left her horse with a stunned stable boy, and went around to the kitchen entrance.

"Alana?" an astonished voice said. Alana saw Zora leave the stove to hurry over to her, enveloping her in a tight hug.

"Zora!" she said, returning the hug.

"Alana, whatever are you doing here? How are you? What was it? Was it nice?"

Alana laughed. "One question at a time. 'It' was a he, and he was very nice. I am fine, and I am here for my sister's wedding of course."

Zora looked as though she was trying desperately to decide which question to ask first. "You came back for your sister?"

Alana sighed. "Yes. As much as I did not like this place, I wouldn't want to miss the biggest day of her life."

Zora smiled. "Must you go back?"

Alana shook her head sadly.

"You look sad! You liked it there?" Zora asked incredulously.

"I was actually very happy there," Alana said.

Zora furrowed her brow. "Really?"

"Yes, really," Alana said with a smile. "But he said I could go, that I shouldn't return."

"But what was it? He, I mean."

Alana took a breath. She wasn't sure how Zora would handle the truth. "Promise me you will understand, and listen to all that I have to say before you say anything."

"I promise," Zora said, sitting down on stool.

Alana sat down as well. "He's a beast. No, no," she said when Zora opened her mouth to say something, "let me finish. He's really a man, but a horrible enchantress turned him into a beast for something he did ages ago."

"And was he nice?" Zora asked, skeptical.

"He was wonderful! We talked about everything together; books, music, anything." She smiled, more to herself than to Zora. "I really do love him."

"_Love_ him?"

Too late, Alana realized what she had said. She froze. Had she said she loved him? She thought for a moment: it sounded natural, it felt natural… did she_ love_ Thomas?

Zora was beside herself. "Wait a moment. You _love _him? This man, beast, whatever, who has kept you captive against your will?"

Alana didn't answer. Someone called Zora to come back to the stove.

"I have to go, but we are talking about this later," Zora said pointedly at Alana, who still sat frozen to her stool.

"Right," she murmured. She sat there for a few moments, mulling it over. She _had_ been the happiest she had ever been with Thomas. She panicked; had she just left the best thing that would ever happen to her? What was she going to do, now that she was gone? She suddenly missed Thomas terribly, and it hadn't even been one day. A crash sounded behind her, bringing her to her senses. She snapped out of her musings, and stood up. Realizing Zora had long left her, she left the kitchen in search of her mother and sister.

She went up the stairs to the grand hall, which was full of scurrying servants, bringing fabric, candles, and chairs into the ballroom for the wedding. Unnoticed, she tried to stay out of everyone's way as she cut across to the grand staircase. Hurrying up, she decided, just for memory's sake, to go back to her room. Snaking the familiar hallways, she reached her door.

She was about to go in when she heard something strange. It sounded like someone crying, inside her bedroom. Puzzled, she softly and slowly opened the door with one hand, peering inside.

To her great shock, Davina, her sister, was lying on her bed, sobbing into the pillows. The rest of the room looked exactly as it had when she left, but the fact that her sister was bawling on her bed held Alana's attention.

"Davina?" she said softly.

Davina, who was lying on her stomach with her chestnut hair sprawled out around her, made a hiccupping noise.

"Now I even hear her," she moaned, beginning to cry even harder.

All thoughts of Thomas leaving her, Alana slowly walked over to her bed, and sat down gently.

"Davina, what in heaven's name is wrong?" she said, pushing her sister's hair away from her face. The sobbing girl looked up, her eyes completely red and her cheeks tearstained.

"Alana?!?" she screeched. Then, without any warning, she sat up and threw her arms around her sister. Alana, bewildered, tentatively placed her arms around Davina.

"Oh, my sister, I missed you so much!" Davina exclaimed, breaking the hug and holding her sister's shoulders.

"Why?" Alana asked, hoping it didn't sound as harsh as she thought.

Davina smiled. "You don't know what you have until it's gone, I suppose."

Alana thought this sounded reasonable, but she was still completely floored.

"I am so happy you could escape for my wedding! I was so worried, I thought maybe you weren't alive or you were being held in the dungeons, but you found a way to escape, didn't you?" Davina said, her tears coming back now in the form of happiness.

"I didn't escape, he let me come," Alana said.

Davina laughed. "Don't be modest, Alana."

"I'm serious," she said, the confused thoughts of Thomas returning. "He let me go," she said softly, more to herself than to her sister.

"Well, however you got here, you are back and I couldn't be happier! Let's go find Mother," Davina said, pulling Alana off the bed and holding her hand, hopping down the hall to their mother's study.

"Mother! Look who it is!" Davina exclaimed when they came into the room.

The queen's jaw dropped, and her hand went up to cover her mouth. "Oh my," she said, before crossing the room and wrapping Alana in a hug similar to Davina's.

"Oh my darling daughter, you escaped! Oh forgive me, my darling, forgive me! I have laid awake at night cursing myself for handing you to that monster, or whatever it was! But you are safe, you found a way out, my clever daughter!"

"I didn't escape, he let me go," Alana repeated to her mother. The woman just smiled.

"Now that you are here, we must make you a dress for the wedding!" her mother said.

And that was how Alana spent the rest of her day, confused and stuck with pins. She was confused about Thomas, about her mother, about her sister… what was going on? Was it really possible that all she had to do was leave before her family appreciated her? They looked so happy, simpering over the beautiful pink gown being made for Alana. They kept saying how happy they were that she was home now, for good.

But she didn't want to stay home… she wanted to go back to the castle, but Thomas had said she couldn't. Her anxiety returned; would she never see him again? But if what she had said was true… what if she loved him? Did she? It felt right, it felt comforting, and yet it felt terrifying. What if her theory had been right, and Thomas was dying?

She had to stop her thoughts when they moved on to discussing the wedding. They asked Alana's opinion on everything, from flowers to cake to tablecloths.

"This is awfully fast, isn't it?" Alana said at one point, when they had to choose the cake that could be made the quickest.

"Well, yes, but I always wanted to be married on Evemass, and I didn't want to wait until next year," Davina said.

"Who is he?"

"Prince Orivo of Medina. He's - " Davina gasped suddenly. "He's _here_! Orivo!" She got up and ran to a man standing in the doorway. He picked her up and whirled her around a few times before setting her down.

"Orivo," Davina began.

"What, another go?" he said, before picking her up again and twirling her. Alana laughed as her sister was set down. The prince was tall and handsome, with swarthy skin and jet-black hair.

"Orivo, I want you to meet my sister," Davina said, leading the prince over to Alana. Alana stood up and curtsied as he kissed the air above her hand.

"Alana, I have wanted to meet you for so long now," he said. She smiled.

"It is a pleasure to meet you."

"So, what are you fine ladies doing? Planning our wedding in top speed, I assume?"

"Yes, and unless you are going to help, dear, you may want to leave," the queen said, bringing in a fresh choice of flowers. He laughed.

"No, I'll leave that to you, as I cannot even tell a daisy from a daffodil." He placed a light kiss on Davina's cheek before striding out of the room.

They stayed busy the rest of the day, and it wasn't until the clock struck ten that they decided everything was in order.

"Good night, my darling," the queen said, kissing Alana on the cheek.

"Good night."

"Good night, sister," Davina said, hugging Alana. "I am truly happy you are home."

Alana smiled. "Good night. Sleep well, you have a busy day tomorrow." Davina returned her smile, and then Alana left for her own room; she was worn out.

"Finally," Alana said, plopping herself onto her bed. Her things had been brought up, and she gasped to see her rose lying gently on top.

She picked it up, and her heart skipped a beat when she noticed that the edges of the petals were turning black, and the rose itself was beginning to wilt. Was this what Thomas had meant about holding on to the rose? That she could see how he was doing by the rose? She almost took her things and headed out the door, but then was sharply reminded of how happy her sister had been to have her home. Torn, she decided it could wait until tomorrow, and then crawled under the covers and went to sleep.


	11. Black Petals

_Chapter 11_

"I did the right thing. Did I not?"

"Yes, of course you did. You wouldn't have wanted her here."

Thomas sat on Alana's balcony, watching his once-beautiful home become blackened with the curse. The roses against the wall were no longer pure white but black at the tips of the petal. He was regretting his decision to let her go; but then again, what good would it have done for her to stay? All she would have been able to do was watch him die.

"You couldn't tell her the curse. Watching you fade would have only confused and alarmed her," Faith said consolingly. The other fairies nodded. They no longer had a sparkled, but flew slowly from place to place, their wings sagging.

"Joy, Faith, Hope," Thomas said, standing up and looking at them. "I… I want to thank you, for all that you've done for me. You helped me learn how to live again, and how to hope." He paused. "You did all you could do."

Hope, staying true to her namesake, said, "Thomas, you've lived a full life. You loved Alana, you learned your lesson."

"But she didn't love me in return," he said.

Joy sighed. "You don't know that, Thomas."

"And now I never will," he said softly. He left her room. The fairies fluttered behind him, praying for some sort of miracle.

All they could do now was hope.

* * *

Alana awoke on Evemass morning feeling not at all rested. She had slept a dreamless sleep, but still felt exhausted. She attributed it to all of her worrying.

Her door opened and Zora walked in, holding a piece of toast.

"Eat this before the vultures come," she said, giving it to Alana. Alana looked at her, puzzled.

"They are roping everyone and anyone into setting up," Zora explained.

Alana nodded and ate her toast.

"So," Zora said, "I still don't understand how you escaped."

"I didn't escape!" Alana exclaimed. "Why does everyone keep assuming that?"

"Because monstrous beasts don't just set people free."

"He isn't monstrous!" Alana said through a mouthful of toast.

"Right… you _love_ him, I forgot."

Alana was about to answer when her mother came in.

"Alana, we really need your help," she said. "Get dressed and come down as soon as possible. Zora, they need help with the cake."

Zora nodded, and curtsying to the queen, she left. Alana got dressed, and followed her mother out the door, not noticing that the white rose was quickly turning black.

* * *

The day wore on, and Thomas felt a sharp pain in his chest where he supposed his heart would be. He felt weak and powerless; his head was filled with thoughts of Alana. The curse had won.

He visited the portrait of his family one last time. Their eternally smiling faces bore down on him, seemingly mocking and tormenting him. The curse was torturing him; he could hear his sister's screams and his parents' cries. The sorceress, it seemed, was laughing at him; he could hear it ringing throughout the castle.

He had failed. And the worse part was that he had finally fallen in love only to not have that love returned. The laughing grew stronger; he slumped to his room, not being able to take it anymore. The pain was intense; his eyes were pulled shut, and all he could see was Alana's face.

Giving in, he fell to his bed, and the world grew dark around him.

* * *

Alana had never worked so hard in her life. Her exhaustion becoming increasingly more unbearable, she helped with innumerous chairs, tables, flowers, candles, dresses, plates, forks, napkins, et cetera. It wasn't until three o'clock in the afternoon when her mother made her stop to get dressed. The ceremony began at four, and Alana looked a wreck. She was so mind-numbingly fatigued that she got into the satin pink dress and had her hair done without even one thought of the castle and Thomas.

Once dressed, she followed her mother into Davina's dressing room, where the bride-to-be stood in her royal white dress, wringing her hands.

"Alana! I am so glad you are here," the elder princess said.

"What's wrong?" Alana said, breaking somewhat out of her foggy state and realizing something was amiss.

"What if this is too early? What if I'm marrying the wrong man? What if, a year from now, I don't love him anymore?" Davina went on. Alana was beginning to relapse into her muddled mind, but then realized Davina had stopped talking and was looking at her expectantly. Without thinking, she said some comforting words that must have worked, for Davina smiled and hugged her.

"Thank you," she said. "What did I ever do without you?"

Alana just smiled halfheartedly. The clock struck a quarter to four, and Davina asked Alana to go look and make sure everything was all right.

She left the room and carefully opened the back door to the ballroom. Everything seemed to be in order, so she went to check the grand hall, where the ceremony was to be. Orivo stood near the makeshift altar, looking awfully nervous himself. The chairs were nearly filled with an array of nobles and distant relations. Alana sighed and went back to the room. Assuring Davina everything was going to be fine, the queen hurried her out of the room. They had to walk in first, and her mother was almost as much of nervous wreck as Davina.

In a matter of minutes, the music began and Alana followed her mother into the hall, trying to walk in a straight line. Although her mind was hazy, something was tugging at the edges, as if something desperately wanted to break through the stupor. She tried to make it go away, but it persisted.

She barely listened to the ceremony, trying to think of what could possibly be wrong. She paid attention long enough to hear her sister and the prince pronounced husband and wife, and clapped as they exited the hall and into the ballroom. She scrambled to follow her mother out as well and immediately sat down the second she saw her chair.

The party began, and everyone got up to dance. Many came up to congratulate her and her mother on pulling together such a wonderful ceremony so very quickly. She supposed she nodded and smiled at the right places, but her vision became so blurred and her head began to hurt so badly that all she wanted to do was go to bed.

_That's it!_ she thought. No one would notice her; both her sister and her mother were dancing, and no one else was really paying attention to her. She slowly stood up, and carefully walked away from the table and out of sight. Once in the hallway, she applauded herself and went up to her room.

Not bothering to take off her gown, she fell onto the bed and went straight to sleep.

But she wasn't going to get the restful sleep she had hoped for. She tossed and turned fitfully, sleeping but not resting. In her mind's eye, she could see Thomas, as clear as day, lying on a bed, his arm dangling off the side.

The dream shifted gears and now she saw them together, in the library. They were taking turns reading a book aloud to each other; somewhere deep in her subconscious she recognized this as one of the many times they had read together. Then she saw him giving her an orchid to put in her room; then, her playing the piano as he listened intently; him saving her from the wolf, and carrying her gently to the fireside; him discussing his family; them sitting by a fire, talking, content with each other's company.

Suddenly, the dream was clouded over with a smoky curtain. She saw a witch, laughing as she watched a man in a mirror turning horribly into a beast; the beast ripping apart tapestries, curtains, and carpets; then suddenly, very clearly, Alana heard,

"If you love, but are not loved in return, your heart shall break and you shall die a beast."

Then she saw herself, leaving the castle. She saw the castle become dark; the roses on the wall were turning black and the gardens were dead. Then came the worst of all; she saw Thomas falling, as if in slow motion, onto a bed. He lay there, completely still, no matter how many times Alana's subconscious willed him to get up.

Alana awoke, completely drenched in sweat. Gasping for breath and panic-stricken, she looked at the rose. The petals were black.

"No," she breathed. She picked it up, and pierced her finger on a thorn. Not caring, she noticed at the very bottom of the rose, a small part of it was still white.

The clock struck ten. Instinctively, she knew she had very little time, and grabbing the rose, ran out of the room. She flew past the ballroom, where the guests were still dancing the night away. She ran to the stable, and mounted the first horse she saw. Nudging it, it began to gallop.

"Hold on, Thomas," she whispered. "I'm coming."


	12. Finally Understanding

_Chapter 12_

Alana rode as fast as she could through the forest. The full moon shone above her as the branches of the trees reached out and cut her arms and legs, reducing her dress to tatters. The air rushed past her ears, rendering her deaf to everything in the forest. The shadows of the trees shimmered over her like water, so that she appeared like a phantom.

A half hour…an hour… on and on she rode, the castle being no nearer in sight. The panic feeling in the pit of her stomach rose to her throat. In her clenched hands lay the black rose, piercing her hands with its sharp thorns.

Suddenly, she heard a laughing. A shrill, distinctive laughing. The laugh from her dream! She urged the horse on toward the sound. It grew louder and louder as she rode, it's harsh, strident tones seducing her. Then, through the tall, black trees, the castle rose up ahead of her, its turrets and towers glistening dully in the moonlight. The gardens were overgrown, the windows were black, and the air was bitingly cold.

She threw herself off the horse and ran into the castle. It was entirely silent and completely dark. She fumbled her way up the stairs and tried to run down the hall, but continued to ram into the many statues and lamps.

The darkness enveloped her, and she ran blindly. Her heart beat fast and tears began to fall in panicked sobs. The cuts on her arms and legs began to bleed, making her a dirty, bloody mess, with only one thing running through her mind: _I must find Thomas._

She couldn't see a thing, and so unknowingly swept past the stairs that led to Thomas' room. The minutes flew by, and she did not know how long she ran. Dead end after dead end she met, running down hallways only to find herself on a balcony or a room she had never seen before.

Distraught and almost hysterical, she screamed, "THOMAS!"

Her voice rang throughout the hall, reverberating off of lamps and chandeliers. She walked, dragging herself, to a balcony. She sat on the ledge, the tears falling freely now. She looked up at the shining stars, blurred spectacles of light through her tears. Then something caught her attention. A small twinkle of light fluttered at a window above her.

The laughing arose again, piercing Alana's ears. She came down from the ledge and hurried inside. The laughing echoed throughout the entire castle. Wiping away her tears, Alana walked back into the hallway. She kept a hand on both walls, stopping to inspect every door. After ten minutes, she finally found what she was looking for.

She raced up the steps before her, straining her eyes to see any sign of the light. The laughing began to be taunting, as if mocking her. When she couldn't see any light, she raced up the next set of stairs.

There it was: a tiny flicker of light at the end of the hall. She began to run toward it, pushing objects out of her way. The light grew larger with every step she took.

Finally, she found herself in a fully lit room. A fire roared in the hearth, and candles filled the room with glowing warmth. The laughing, however, had abruptly stopped.

"Here to save your one true love?"

A sarcastic, cruel voice filled the room. Alana jumped, staring around to see where it had come from.

"You are too late."

Alana then realized where she was. She was in Thomas' room.

"Where is he?" she demanded. The laughing commenced once again.

"Do you really think you can save him? You, a pathetic, driveling girl?"

"Who are you?" Alana yelled.

"You should know who I am. I am the one who got you and him into this in the first place."

The enchantress…

Alana was confused and unnerved. "Why do you care if I save him? There is nothing in it for you to keep him trapped in that body!" Alana shouted, not knowing where to look.

"Oh, he will die trapped in that body. You are right, there is nothing in for me… except revenge. Satisfaction in the knowledge that he is dead."

Alana swallowed. The clock on the mantelpiece struck quarter past eleven.

"My spirit reigns over this castle, and so long as it does so, nothing can stop him from dying."

Alana stayed silent, letting her eyes roam over the room. There must be something…

A mirror hung on the wall. A gilded mirror, encrusted with jewels, that Alana had never seen before. In the reflection swirled a misty green haze. Intrigued, Alana stepped toward it. The voice fell silent, and nothing could be heard but Alana's ragged breathing.

She reached her hand out as she neared the mirror. The green mist was slowly becoming red, as if blood dripped on the glass. Her hand was almost on it when she was suddenly thrown back by an invisible force.

"Do not dare touch that mirror," the voice said, becoming deep and terrible. Alana sat up on her elbows, her eyes still fixed on the mirror. The silence hung in the air for another moment or two.

Alana racked her brain to try and think of a plan. Her eyes suddenly went to the door in the corner of the room.

"Why do need this revenge so very much?" Alana asked, hoping desperately her weak plan may work.

The voice began to speak, as if happy that someone wanted to hear about it, and ranted on and on. Alana began to edge herself on her elbows to the door. The voice spoke of the unicorn, and of the insolent prince, obviously not noticing Alana slowly turning the doorknob.

She opened the door but a crack, and peered in. Down the short hallway she could see the fairies, glowing dimly in the dark.

"How terrible!" Alana said loudly and slowly. The voice ignored her interruption and continued to talk. The fairies, however, heard Alana and fluttered excitedly to the door.

"Help me, please!" Alana breathed frantically.

The three fairies nodded, their faces alight with mischief. The enchantress' voice still spoke of Thomas and his innumerable flaws. The fairies flew into the room silently, stopping behind a large vase. Then they flew, three blurs of color, to a cauldron that hung above the fire. Alana took her eyes away from them and focused on the voice.

"He is a despicable creature, and deserves his fate," the voice finally finished.

"But, then why would say in the curse that it could be broken when it fact it could not?" Alana asked, glancing quickly at the fire. Small sparks occasionally were sent flying into the cauldron.

The voice was quiet, as if it were thinking.

"How do you know what the curse says?" it said finally.

Alana opened her mouth to answer, but suddenly a large CRACK resounded throughout the room. She looked over at the fire, but could see nothing but large, golden sparks and a red, thick vapor beginning to spread.

"WHAT? WHAT IS GOING ON?" the enchantress's voice yelled terribly. The vapor, however, had become a thick smoke and began to cover the ceiling. Alana threw herself onto the floor, crawling to the mirror.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE, YOU INSIGNIFICANT FOOL?" the voice yelled, except this time it sounded faraway, as if it was in the room next door. The smoke filled the room, and Alana could barely hear the enchantress beginning to scream.

She finally made it to the mirror. She stood, facing it, swiping smoke out of the way. Instead of a swirling circle of color, however, she saw a horrible, twisted face. A face that was once beautiful, but had since been distorted into a sneering, cruel face.

"You shall never leave this castle alive!" the face screamed. It was the voice, the enchantress' voice.

"Why? Why would you waste your time pursuing revenge?" Alana screamed back. "All that you said about him is a lie! I love him!"

The face's eyes and mouth opened in shock. Alana took the spare moment to grab a candlestick nearby.

"I am sorry you have spent your entire being chasing a lost cause," Alana said.

"NO! YOU CANNOT DO THIS TO ME! I WILL NOT BE DEFEATED!"

Alana brought the candlestick crashing into the mirror. Shards of glass flew as a blinding white light filled the room. Lightning crashed outside and the gray clouds were sucked into a swirling whirlpool, before all was gone, in a wave of light.

It took a moment for Alana to collect herself. She sat up, holding her head. The room somehow, seemed brighter and more welcoming than before.

She stood up and ran down the short hallway. Thomas lay, utterly still. She rushed to sit down next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Oh Thomas," she whispered, the tears returning. "Please wake up. Please."

She lay her head down on his chest, which was still warm. Her tears fell onto his velvet cloak.

"Don't leave me," she said, closing her eyes and stroking the soft feel of his fur. "I love you."

The clock struck midnight.

* * *

Alana opened her eyes to find herself in the ballroom. The morning sun poured in, giving the room a cheery glow. She was wearing a fine satin golden gown, long white gloves, and sparkling shoes. Her hair was pinned up and tidy, her wounds were all healed, and reaching up, she felt a small tiara on her head.

She looked around, perplexed beyond imagination. At the bottom of the crimson steps stood a man, who looked up hopefully at her. Feeling lightheaded, she walked down the steps slowly and carefully.

The man was in fact quite young, probably about her age. His hair was long and golden, pinned back at the nape of his neck. He was dressed all in gold, just like her. He was astonishingly handsome, and he smiled at her as she neared, making her almost feel faint.

She finally reached the bottom step. A smile threatened to overcome her lips as he kissed her hand.

"Good morning, Alana," he said. Struck by an impulse, she took off her glove and touched his smooth face. His eyes closed as her hand wandered to his forehead, his cheek, his chin. They opened again when she stopped.

His eyes were a vivid, vibrant green. She knew those eyes; they looked back at her with more love than the world could possibly hold.

"Thomas," she breathed. He smiled.

"Alana," he said, drawing her close to him. "I love you."

And with that, he kissed her. Alana felt her heart soar, and with the warm sun on her face and his strong arms around her, she smiled through the kiss. She was home.


	13. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

As Thomas and Alana waltzed happily around the ballroom, the three fairies heard a great commotion outside. Fluttering out the front doors, they found two women and a man on horses, calling out Alana's name. The fairies approached the elder woman, a stately and majestic figure.

"May we help you?" Faith asked.

"I demand the release of my daughter," the woman replied firmly. "I am her mother, and I am here to negotiate for anything you want, so long as my daughter returns safely home."

"Ah, well…" Faith began, but the queen would hear nothing of it. She barged past the fairies, followed closely by the younger woman and man.

Alana's mother paid no attention to the calls of the fairies, and instead stormed into the castle. She heard the laughter coming from the ballroom, but, as any distressed mother would, interpreted it as her daughter being tortured.

"Release her at once!" the queen yelled when she reached the ballroom. Thomas and Alana stopped abruptly, looking up at her in surprise.

"Mother?" Alana asked incredulously. Thomas, however, smiled.

"This is your mother?" he asked. But then his brow furrowed. "I thought you were a farmer's daughter," he said, confused, looking at the woman's regal clothing.

"I am the queen of this land and everything in it," the queen said, rushing down the stairs. Davina and Orivo followed her hesitantly.

"You're a princess?" It was Thomas' turn to be incredulous. "Why did you not tell me?"

Alana suddenly felt guilty. "It, well…it never came up," Alana said weakly, painfully remembering the time she had meant to tell him.

"But your father said he was a farmer," Thomas said.

"Well… he lied. He gave you a farmer's name instead of his own," Alana said, biting her lip. Would he be angry? She should have told him earlier…

Thomas fell silent. The queen took this opportunity to seize Alana by the arm and steer her up the stairs.

"Mother! What are you doing?" Alana cried.

"I am taking you home, where you belong!" her mother answered.

Thomas, however, was making no move to stop this. In fact, he was not even looking up at her. Alana, heartbroken, stopped resisting, and allowed her mother to maneuver her out the front doors, Davina and Orivo close behind.

The fairies, who had being flittering outside the front doors, were shocked to see Alana leaving the castle. Willingly!

Alana got onto the horse in front of Orivo, and turned to look at the castle one last time. Then the horse began with a start, and they were galloping away from the castle.

The fairies at first were so shocked, they didn't move.

"What is going on?" Hope finally said.

"I do not know," Joy said. Then she zoomed into the castle, and Hope and Faith followed her.

"Thomas? Why is Alana leaving? Without you?" Joy demanded when they reached the ballroom.

"You do realize she _left_," Hope said. "As in, _gone_?"

Thomas was standing right where Alana had left him, staring at the floor. A million thoughts were running through his head.

Alana wasn't the one who he had thought was coming… what if she hadn't come, and the true farmer's daughter had come instead? Would he have fallen in love with her? Had he forced himself to fall in love with Alana?

And why would the king have lied in the first place? To protect his own daughters, of course. But… _what if Alana hadn't come_?

"Thomas, listen to me," Faith said, flying right down to him and fluttering in his face. "You love her, and she loves you. Forget the past, just think about the future!"

"What if she hadn't come?" he said, finally voicing his thoughts. "What if the farmer's daughter had come?"

"Does it matter?" Hope asked.

"What if I'm not really in love with her?" he said, his eyes imploring. "Would I have fallen in love with the farmer's daughter, as well?"

Joy sighed. "Thomas, listen. What if you never see her again? What if you've just let her go, never to return?"

This caught Thomas by surprise. Never see her again? He thought of her smiling face, her golden hair blowing in the wind…

"What am I doing?" he said to himself. "Do I have a horse?"

Excited, the fairies nodded. He ran outside to the stables, and not bothering to put on a saddle, he mounted a horse and set off on a gallop.

Alana, meanwhile was miserable. This was all her fault… why hadn't she told him when she had the chance? But then again, what did it matter? Didn't he love her more than to care about what she was rather than who she was?

And her family… why, after years of disregard, did they suddenly care so much about her? She looked over at her mother. She sat rigid, poised on the horse, never once looking over to smile and say how happy she was to have Alana back. Nor Davina… only Orivo tried to sustain any conversation.

So there she was, alone with her thoughts, when a great galloping of hooves could be heard behind them. They stopped, and Orivo turned the horse around to see a great cloud of dust being blustered off the road. Finally, a figure appeared from the cloud, a figure on horseback. The horse was running wildly fast, and the figure was hunched over, urging it on.

The figure stopped abruptly at them, kicking up a great deal of dust and dirt into their faces. Coughing and trying to wave the dust away, Alana heard the figure say,

"I am so sorry, I did not realize how fast I was going."

"Thomas?" Alana coughed out.

"Alana? Where are you?" his voice cut through the thick veil of dirt.

"I'm right here," she said, sticking her hand out. She felt it being grasped into his, gentle yet firm.

"For heaven's sake," the queen said as the dust settled down. "What on earth do you think you are doing, young man?"

"Begging for forgiveness," Thomas said. The dirt at last thinned, and Alana saw Thomas, dismounting his horse, still holding her hand. He looked nervous and excited, and brown, due to all the dirt.

Alana allowed him to help her dismount the horse, so that she ended up in his arms.

"I am sorry," he said softly. "I was being stupid… it doesn't matter what you are… my life is worthless without you."

She smiled, and was going to answer when her mother's voice cut in.

"If you think you are taking her back to that prison, you are quite mistaken."

He seemed to brace himself, and then walked over to stand in front of the queen's horse, Alana behind him, holding his hand.

"Your majesty, I humbly apologize. But I love your daughter, and have every intention of marrying her, if you will grant it," he said nobly.

Alana felt her jaw drop, and saw her mother's doing the same. The silence hung in the air for a moment or two. Then, to Alana's great surprise, her mother smiled.

"Permission granted," she said.

* * *

And so, they were married in the gardens of the castle, once again in full gorgeous bloom. The queen was delighted to have both her daughters married to such wonderful men, and the men were quite happy themselves.

They lived in the castle until the end of their years, although they often visited the royal palace. Davina was a beloved ruler among her people, and ruled with a kind and resolved hand.

Thomas and Alana's days were filled with happiness, the fairies by their sides. Their children grew to love the romantic story of their parents, which you, my reader, have been the first to know.

And so concludes the story of the beauty and the beast.

_The End_


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